Love thy Godmother, Godfather, and Godson
by candelight
Summary: When his parents forget Timmy's birthday....again-Jorgan Von Strangle decides to look personally into the Turner's case. What he finds doesn't please him....and, in a grand Fairy Trial, not only do Timmy's parents lose custody, his fairy family GAINS it!
1. Birthday Boy

Love thy Godmother, Godfather, and Godson

---

When his parents forget Timmy's birthday....again-Jorgan Von Strangle decides to look personally into the Turner's case. What he finds doesn't please him....and, in a grand Fairy Trial, not only do Timmy's parents lose custody, his fairy family GAINS it!

Please tell me if you want me to continue!

_Quote:_

_Parents can be the unsung heroes of every person that has ever done anything great. Think about the people that you most admire in your life. Do you attribute any of their greatness to the people that raised them? Often, we do not even think about the fact that there were most likely two people who were most influential in making a person who they are. Of course I am referring to his or her parents. If a person is great, remember that greatness is not achieved in a vacuum. There were people who sowed the seeds of greatness. _

The sun was about to come up.

And about time, too.

Cosmo shivered in anticipation.

He LOVED surprises! Except when they involved Wanda's Fish Frillet Surprise.

And her upside down Pineapple cake surprise.

And her Lemon Meringue Pie Surprise.

And her Taco Soup Surprise.

And her Pita Pretzel Surprise.

And her Tiramisu Surprise.

And her....

"OW!"

A flurry of stars before his eyes...and birdies.....and little rocketships with those little rodents in sweatervests....

Who were they? Melvin and the Squirrels? Patty and the Skunks? Cindy and the Werewolves?

Ah, well. Wanda withdrew her wand from Cosmo's cranium with a scowl, as if she'd guessed what he had been thinking about.

Timmy still lay in bed, chest rising and falling quietly with each breath he took. Wanda wiped at her eyes.

He looked like such a wittle angel....

Too bad she was going to have to light these in a moment....

_____

As the sun slowly came up in the weak, early spring March air, Poof happily lighted no less then seven hundred firecrackers....

...right next to Timmy's bed.

"AAGGGHHHHHH!"

The boy fell out of bed, shock radiating through his body as he scrambled up, heart pounding.

Poof raised his rattle with a large smile on his face-and the ceiling opened into a frenzy of color.

Timmy blinked, asmall grin becoming wider by the second as confetti, streamers, and balloons burst their way into the room, Wanda, beaming, waved her orange noisemaker

around as Cosmo blew into a party streamer.

And then transformed into frat boy clothing, fingers now coated with rings, an obnoxious medallion hanging from his neck, an overlarge pair of shades, and now he was busy

scratching a record in reverse.

"WWWWWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Yo, homeboy! Word on the street is ya'll havin' yerself a birthin'-"

Wanda groaned, and directed an elephant balancing on a ball directly on Cosmo's head.

"Plan for today is: Space station for a lunar, top-of-the-notch-lunar breakfast, early afternoon at the circus, lunch at all out street carnival with Chip Skylark in performance,

presents at-"

Timmy laughed.

"Yeeeeeeee-"

But there came a startling noise, one that silenced all four of them, and one that would definitely halt your own "Ha."

Timmy's mom and dad were backing out of the driveway in their old green station wagon, honking the horn.

Mom was in her usual business suit, Dad....well, what the dude always wore.

"Bye, Timmy!"

Timmy blanched.

"Uh-wait-g-guys-"

But, ANOTHER sound distracted him.

The sound of Vicky axing down the door as a funeral director played gloomy music on an old organ in the background.

****

Timmy's mom abruptly slammed her foot on the brakes.

"Oh my gosh! I forgot something!"

Timmy's dad cast her a puzzled glance.

"Why? What is it, honey?"

Timmy's mom (I Wish they'd invent a name for the woman) did not look at hr husband, but stared at her clasped hands.

"Today....is special. IT'S MY TURN TO BRING THE DONUTS IN AFTER BREAK!"

Mr. Turner's eyes widened.

"Well, what are we waiting for?! To the Cop Shop!"

And the car took off at full speed, denting the Dinkleberg's mailbox as it did so.

Jorgan Von Strangle scowled, rummaging through the large stack of papers with a puzzled frown.

The idiot boy Turner...today WAS the day, wasn't it?

According to Fairy Law, his age on his profile should've magically changed by now. And today WAS March Twenty-First.

Jorgan glanced lovingly at the violet, velvet book resting on a pedestal nearby marked, "Da Rules."

If he weren't happily married to the Tooth Fairy....

Ah, well. Best to get back to the matter at hand. According to the Good Book, when a child had been acknowledged in their society as one year older....they lost one year that they

were able to spend with their godparents.

But most children lost their godparents by now.

Excluding Timmy Turner, who managed to cling like a monkey to his god family, with the very skin of his teeth and fingertips.

And....another thing that had been troubling him....ever since he had properly met the Turners in that awful jail cell in Abracatraz....

Jorgan grunted in pain as he struggled to lift the enormous file, absolutely brimming with papers and photos. Crow, what did Turner WISH for on a day to day basis?!

Even with his muscles, it was extremely difficult trying to MOVE this thing, let alone lift it. He had to give Timmy his own bloody file cabinet, for crying out loud!

The large family gave up, poofed up a crane-and smashed through the walls of the Records with a shrug.

Binky could fix that later.

---

Ouch.

Jorgan flipped through the pages.

This Vicky had style-but she was scary.

Even Von Strangle could admit THAT.

They hired this woman for four years, when she came in with chainsaws, golf clubs, power tools, blow torches, stacks of her own homework-!

And, apparently, the only vacations Timmy had ever been on with his family were: A fishing trip, which resulted in Mister Turner being chased after a bloodthirsty mob, intent on

murdering that creepy puppet, a trip to the snow lodge-which Mrs. Turner had deliberately lied about, Mr. Turner had caused general panic and confusion, and Timmy was

snowbound with a pyschotic babysitter.

Also, a trip to Canada, which resulted in the Turner parents getting arrested....

Twice.

Alongside their son the second time.

The other vacations-to the beach, to the moon, to Nascar races, deep sea diving, to the mountains, the desert-well, in all fairness to Timmy's Dad, he DID take Timmy to a desert...

...only it had been a junky ghost town, and he betrayed Timmy's efforts to make him eight bucks richer.

Jorgan flipped through the Chosen One's latest databases.

Super Bike....

Super Toilet....

Dark Laser.....

Magic Copier....

A league of manic superheroes.....

No emotions....

Christmas Every day....

Dessert everyday....

HEAT vision....

Extreme wishes....

Bringing pirates from the seventeenth century to a baseball game....

Being turned into a_ girl._...wow, Jorgan wanted to check that photo sometime....

Locked inside a deadly video game...

Bringing the prince of a alien species to earth.....

Did this kid have no sense?

Jorgan sighed heavily.

He DID grudgingly care for the kid-seeing as his wife wore Timmy's teeth on her hand-but something just didn't connect quite right.

His parents made him fight a bully to get their HOUSE back?

Cosmo and Wanda were obligated to fulfill any wish Timmy had....as long as it did not go against the rules.

But....wishing yourself into a dog's body?

Wishing you had never been born?

Even TURNER had more sense then that....

And all these times he had nearly been discovered!

Not to mention, incriminating photos of what looked like screaming cat food on the boy's daily plate....

And the fact that his parents had sent him to a boarding school that was a Military academy?

AND, if no one had acknowledged it-not even his parents.....Jorgan froze.

Splendid. Just Splendid.

But...not even Turner could win forever. It was time he took this into his own freakishly large hands.

Jorgan reached for a star shaped phone, tapping his feet in tune to the elevator music Cosmo had so graciously provided to the company.

Right now, Jorgan needed someone more ruthless then he was.

Someone who would resort to anything to win-even telling the truth.

Someone like.....a ruthless, prosecuting attorney.

The line was ringing. Finally. Jorgan turned to the sign.

"Hello, Fairy Mason?"

He heard the fairy answer in affirmative.

"I'd like to report a case....of, no, not by the godparents themselves-the human parents."

Jorgan sighed.

"No, I am NOT trying to sue anyone...though I would like a court order against Mama Cosma later.

"I want to report a case....of godchild neglect. "


	2. Up and Away

Breakfast had been fun-even if it was scattered in midair and you had to swim about to actually get a bite of anything-but now, everyone was back at the house.

Wanda's fists tightened as the noisemakers faded somewhat uncomfortably into the distance.

Timmy was still staring outside the window. Cosmo cleared his throat.

"Awkward."

Poof looked a little puzzled. Timmy just turned, a small smile on his face.

"Nah....it's okay. I got you guys, so-"

"But they're your parents! You're not ten every day, you now!"

Cosmo turned, looking annoyed.

"Um....actually, for seven seas-"

Wanda clapped her hand over his mouth.

"MORNIN', TWERP!"

Timmy gulped.

Vicky was busy torching the living room before she made her way up the stairs.

Well, at least she was in a better mood then usual. Last time, she brought heat seeking missiles.

"Ah, crud....the guests are set to arrive any minute! By the way....who'd you invite?"

Wanda picked up a long scroll.

"Uh.....Sanjay, AJ, Chester, Elmer, Mark Chang-"

"Justin Jake Astin, moody earth teen dream with three first names-"

"the Dinklebergs-"

Timmy hid a laugh at that one. They were going to have to take plenty of photos of THAT couple while the party was going on.

"Trixie Tang, that fluffy cat of Jorgan's that owns a jetpack, Vandissimo-"

"HEY!"

"Well, YOU invited your Mama, thanks ever so much.....WHICH you promised you would NOT do."

Cosmo gulped.

Scary things happened when Cosma didn't get invited to things.

Scary things.....

Almost as scary as Wanda's anger...or her cooking.

"Um, sweetie....you didn't invite Big Daddy, did you?"

Wanda suddenly became very preoccupied with her list.

"Cupid-he knows how to party-Doctor Studwell-"

"Doctor RIP Studwell," corrected Cosmo and Timmy in unison.

"Some toga dudes, a few Vikings-"

"AWESOME! They bring the good dips!"

Poof fluttered up and down, with a small smile.

Wanda continued. "Some pirates, nine versions of the Crimson Chin, a few friends from Clevelandlantis, a few Canadians, the US Swat team-and, well...." Wanda trailed off.

"Trixie..."

Timmy let out a cheer.

"But she RSVPed and said she'd rather stay home and pluck her eyebrows, sport."

Cosmo paused, then he and Poof poofed up numbers: 10:0, and 9:3.

"Nice comeback!"

Timmy just shook his head with a sigh.

"Anyone else?"

"Uh....." Wanda turned bright red.

"Oh, well-uh....erm....._Tootie, Veronica, The Kindness-_"

Timmy had been sipping water, as Poof zapped him into a white tuxedo-but he now spewed it all over the carpet.

"Whaaaaaaaaaat?! I-I don't m-mind the Kindness s-so much, b-but...."

Cosmo cheered.

"Hooray! All of your stalkers are coming to the party! You know, your stalkers.....Tootie, who taps your phones, Veronica, who collects the gum you spit into the wastebasket-"

"Wha?!"

"And the Kindness-the former Darkness, you know...." Cosmo's eyes became dreamy.

"I was there....Poof was there.....Hey! Timmy was there....and Wanda-you were there! Not to mention, the Darkness stalked you throughout the known universe and stuff-and,

oh yeah-kidnapped your friends, family, enemies on numerous occasions to get at you, and now sends Huginators to you three times a week? Good times. Gooooooood times."

"TWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPP!"

Timmy jumped.

"Uh-I-I-I-"

Wanda turned to him, pink orbs eyes wide.

"WISH for something!"

The boy trembled. "You try! Just-get rid of her! Anything!"

Poof hurriedly blasted the decorations away, as a certain someone began kicking at the door.

Wanda turned to Cosmo, looking frantic.

"DO something!" she begged under her breath.

Cosmo beamed as he fluttered towards the door, and poofed up a guilliotene, hand grasped around the rope.

"Way ahead of you!"

Wanda rolled her eyes, as the kicks became more and more intense, poofing the blades away with a casual flick.

Timmy groaned.

"Send her someplace! ANYWHERE! As long as it's FAR away! Like....uh...Japan!" he added, as inspiration struck him.

Cosmo smiled.

"Great idea, Timmy-but what did Japan ever do to you?"

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Vicky frowned.

This....was odd....

One minute, she was about to torture, torment, terroize, and tenderize the twerp.

Next, she was standing in....

What was with all the lights?

And why was everyone here staring at her?

Someone screamed.

"Aieeee ！ それは自由の国の魔女です！ もしあなたが住むことを望むなら、逃げてください!"

And Vicky stood, blinking, as heck broke loose over the city that never slept.

----

"Well, that takes care of that!"

Wanda breathed a sigh of relief, as Timmy began peering out the window.

"YES! They're coming!"

The ten year old boy sighed as he spotted a young girl jumping up and down, braced teeth in a beam.

"Tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmy!"

"Well....at least she has a present with her."

Cosmo beamed.

"C'mon, birthday boy, let's-"

But the fairy abruptly halted as an echoing CRACK snapped through the air.

And the earth began to violently shake.

----

What on-?

Gifts the guests were bringing were falling to the ground, as balloons took flight into the sky.

A furious wind began to howl, sending them spinning into the distance. Timmy wrenched his hands over his eyes, as Cosmo began laughing in a somewhat high pitched squeal as

he dragged out a bicycle, witch's hat placed precariously on his head.

Poof seized the back of Timmy's shirt to keep him from being blown away completely. Wanda wrenched her mouth open to speak, but one of Timmy's socks unfortunately chose at

that moment to propel itself in it.

Timmy, however, had better luck.

"A S-S-Storm?! TODAY? Cosmo, Wanda, Poof, I wish-"

A very familiar, echoing cry rung out from the heavens.

"TIMMY TURNER!"

----

BAM.

With a screeching, rusty, wrenching sound squealing over the howls of the wind, the roof of Timmy's home was quite literally blasted off.

Again. Timmy's hands scrabbled at the floorboards, trying to find some ground, before-

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

As the guests were sucked into a violet vortex, Poof let out a whimper as his rattle slipped from his fingers...

....and ditto on on Cosmo and Wanda's wands-Wanda letting out a cry as they flashed off into the darkness, glittering into the distance.

Poof seized Timmy tighter, as Wanda seized him, and Cosmo seized her....

Timmy's grip was weakening-

And, releasing screams quite freely now-Timmy, Wanda, Cosmo, Poof, shot off into the sky, a screaming Mr. and Mrs. Turner's car following before the portal shut itself off

completely, fading like mist in the empty air.


	3. Law and Order

"AAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Plummeting like stones, Cosmo abruptly stopped in midair, as did a blinking Wanda, and Poof.

"Agh!"

Stars in his eyes, and little birdies in a chorus, Timmy stared dazedly off into the distance before putting a hand to his head.

"What the-?"

He gulped.

His was sitting in a very uncomfortable, violet chair, made to allow the person to sit up absolutely straight-even if your wrists were shackled to your ankles.

There was an enormous, redwood podium, and a row of velvety seats behind it-presumably for a jury.

Timmy had, of course, seen the room before. He gulped again, heart pounding.

"Guys.....remember when I said I wanted my birthday OUTSIDE a courtroom setting?"

In a flurry of stars-in the audience pavilion-with cries of alarm-and much honking of a nearby car horn, coming from the Turners-was soon abruptly filled as everyone crash landed.

Mark staggered up, a slightly dazed smile on his face-which included some missing teeth.

"Let's go again! Duuuuude-that was like, totally awesomesauce."

AJ, rubbing his head with a groan, stared blankly at his surroundings.

"What on.....? This looks like some kind of-"

Chester picked himself off the carpeted floor, wincing.

"One of the court shows you always see when your flickin' past the channels, trying to find something worth watching?"

The genius sighed.

* * * *

Creeeeeeeeeak.

The doors opened-and, in a burst of color, murmuring fairies with clipboards began to poof in, ignoring the audience as they conversed-occasionaly pointing at Timmy, sometimes

at his parents-whose car was still parked in a nearby row-but, even as Wanda called out to them, they continued to go about their business.

"Hey! Why are WE here? Uh-guys-this must be some mistake-"

She turned to glare at Cosmo.

"Did you sink Atlantis AGAIN?"

"Hey! I learned my lesson after the ninth time!"

Tootie gulped, as more fairies began to drift in from the side doors.

"T-Timmy, w-w-wha...?"

Mind racing, Timmy's mouth dropped.

"Uh....guys? You're dreaming!"

Sanjay began to stroke one of the cats that had been following him around since last April. His eyes brightened.

"Ohhhh.....a dream?"

Timmy nodded vigorously.

"Dudes-it's the eve BEFORE my party. It's no biggie."

Sanjay frowned, scratching his head slightly.

"That makes sense.....but where is your white stallion?"

----

Elmer gulped, as, at last, the judge drifted in. His boil constricted itself.

"Uhhhh..."

"SILENCE, you fool! I didn't do it-nobody saw me-no one can prove I did anything! Turn your head! TURN YOUR HEAD!"

----

CRASH.

The marble door was abruptly kicked down in a flurry of dust. The judge frowned.

"Uh.....Von Strangle....you could've just as easily poofed in, you kn-"

The militaristic fairy shrugged.

"Meh. I know..... but more dramatic."

The jury mumbled amongst themselves.

Timmy glared at the enormous fairy making his way towards him.

"Uh-dude-I think there must be some-"

"TIMMY TURNER!"

The bellow nearly forced the ten year old boy spinning backwards. Jorgan blinked.

Oh.....right. Turner WASN'T being prosecuted. Jorgan scratched his head.

"Uh....happy birthday."

----

Wanda turned to face the judge imploringly.

"Uh....your honored fairyship, I think there might've been some mistake...."

"Now, now, little missy," said the judge kindly, rifling through a stack of papers. "It's not you we're judging."

Cosmo opened his mouth. The judge sighed.

"Nor you either, Cosmo.....though the city of Pittsburgh still want a case against you. As....does Atlantis.....San Francisco, for an erruption made in the nineteen thirties....more

then five consecutive states with the whole, "Dust Bowl" kit and kaboodle-"

"Hey! I was just trying to make things a little better for the sunbathers!"

The judge sighed and buried his face in his hands.

"That is NOT the point, you moron!"

Wanda scowled.

"Timmy didn't do anything! I-"

The judge shook his head.

"Actually, it's Timmy we DON'T want."

Poof blinked. As did Timmy, after a quick glance at his godparents, who looked just as puzzled as he did.

"Well....THAT makes for a nice change of pace. So, uh....who are the deadbeats you're prosecuting, then?"

The judge did not answer as he pounded his gavel against the wooden pedestal.

"Court is now in session. All rise."

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Mr. Turner scowled.

Awww.....all they had in this glove compartment were CONDIMENTS!

And right when they were about to have a lovely dream about some deadbeats getting busted, too....

He crossed his fingers, a beautific smile on his face.

"Oooooh! I hope it's Dinkleberg!"

----

Jorgan smashed down an enormous copy of Da Rules on Timmy's desk, leaning forwards with a nasty expression on his face.

"Turner! As a somewhat puny human, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the-"

"Jorgan!" Timmy snapped, leaning back to avoid the spittle coming out of the Fairy's mouth. "Let me tell you something: Say it, don't spray it. And shouldn't the judge be telling

everyone what this whole court thing is even for?"

The judge was nodding sternly. Jorgan sighed, but drew back, muttering under his breath.

Cosmo grasped his wand-which was lying nearby on a cushion-and poofed up a clothespin over his nose.

"And _I _just want to tell YOU something: Two words. Mouth. Wash!"

Wanda turned to him with a sigh.

"That's ONE word!"

"It is? Then, I'll just say it again: Mouthwash, mouthwash!"

----

The Judge pounded his gavel, once, twice.

"Order! This Court will NOW-" he shot a dark look at Jorgan-who shrugged with a helpless smile on his face-

"...come to order. The Fairy World vs...."

Timmy leaned forward, as did most of the audience-save for Veronica, who was busy combing her hair.

"Mr. and Mrs. Turner."

----

It couldn't be. Timmy swayed slightly.

What on......?!

Poof drew closer to him, and Timmy gratefully grasped his tiny hand to steady himself.

Mrs. Turner had gasped in horror-but a relaxed smile soon met her features as Dad took her hand.

"Calm down, hon-this is an entirely coincidental, false, and non-actually occurring event!"

----

Jorgan scowled, beady eyes searching through the audience.

"First to the stand.....AJ!"

----

As the boy was poofed into the witness stand, he rubbed his bald head questioningly.

"I don't even wanna GO into the technical and physical improbabilities of this e-"

"AAAAAAAAJJJJJJJJJJJJ!"

The boy shuddered as Jorgan stomped towards him.....

....and handed the bewildered boy a cookie.

"I made these in my cooking class! Tell me what you....oh. AJ, do you swear, under rule of court juristiction, and your own honor, to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing

BUT the truth?"

"But if this is a dream, it doesn't really matter what I...?"

"JUST ANSWER THE QUESTIONS!" barked Jorgan, flicking through a sheaf of papers.

"AJ....what's-your-last-name, I forgot-who dropped you and your puny, hardly buff friends at the concert last Tuesday?"

AJ slowly regained his wits.

"Well, uh...."

He reached inside his pocket for a stack of photos, which he timidly handed to Jorgan.

A tall woman with pink hair was waving at the camera, and a green haired man holding a baby clasped in his hands was making faces at the camera as a band covered in

somewhat gaudy black and white make up held up bunny ears in the distance. Mrs. Turner blanched, as the two were poofed out of their car into a nearby seat.

"Those guys...." (he pointed to Cosmo, Wanda, and Poof) "except they were taller took us. Timmy just said they were his godparents. I didn't really care, because not only was

Wanda....uh, Fairywinkle, is it? Was a lot less shrill then Mrs. Turner."

Mrs. T scowled at AJ, who shrugged helplessly.

"I was also kinda surprised they managed to get concert tickets-especially backstage passes and stuff. They cost an arm and a leg-and, they've been sold out for months!"

Timmy bit his lip.

"Uh...wait just a minute-"

"Thank you, AJ," said Jorgan smoothly, snapping his fingers.

And Chester appeared shortly after. He paused.

"Sweet! I'm on TV! Mind switching it to the NBA reruns? I kinda wanted to see Dad against the Pi-"

"CHESTER MCBADBAT! One of the only ones of Timmy's puny peers that actually seems to HAVE a last name-"

"Hey!" said Elmer indignantly. "I have a last name, too! It's-"

But Jorgan plowed on.

"Do you want to try my souffle? I made it with buttercream icing baked in!"

Chester shrugged, and took a bit, chewing appreciatively.

"Not bad....not bad......." he mused.

"But do you have a dumpster out back I could root through?"

The Judge sighed.

"Just answer the questions, son. Now, what we all need to know-" He held up a photo of Vicky.

The flowers in a nearby vase wilted. Timmy shuddered.

"What this picture say to you?"

Chester gulped, fidgeting in his seat, hands clasped together.

"Uh....bad things. Reeeeeally, really, bad things. Things my Dad says I'm not supposed to repeat."

Then, his eyes filled with tears as he slammed his head against his folded elbows, slamming his fist against the wood.

"MAKE THE BAD THINGS GO AWAY! I'll be good, Mommy-I promise!"

Jorgan rolled his eyes, but the judge awkwardly patted Chester on the back.

"Uh...er...yes, son. How long has Vicky been in the Turners' employ?"

"Uh...since he was five. And he's ten, so-"

The judge shot a glance at Jorgan, who returned it.

Something constricted in Timmy's stomach.


	4. A Key Witness or Four

"Call to the stand.......ELMER!"

And the boy was poofed forwards, blinking.

"Uh.....I didn't do it?"

The boil hissed.

Literally.

_"I didn't do it! Nobody saw me do it-I'll never talk-YOU CAN'T PROVE ANYTHING!"_

"Elmer-what's-your-last-name...." growled Jorgan.

The boy shrunk in his seat. Jorgan beamed.

"Do you want to try my Montc Blanc?"

----

Elmer chewed thoughtfully, but shook his head.

"Nice.....but not at all original recipe, Mister Big Scary Fairy."

Jorgan's face contorted into rage.

"HOW DARE YOU! I've spent FOUR years in Culinary Cuisine!"

The somewhat nerdy boy leaned back, propping his feet on the desk before rocking wobbily back and forth, he eased himself back on the floor

with a sigh of relief.

"_I_ started in preschool. AND, I majored in seven different Master degrees of fine _art-_ in cooking, foreign pastry, therodynamics in baking,

the physics of fine taste, I travelled to _Etoile _in Italy to master the fine art of higher class dining under the toughest Chef in the world-

The art of food and room decor, AND I own a Five Star Restaurant in a small Villa South of France!"

The boy leaned forwards to meet Jorgan's groveling form on the floor, before crossing his arms, and turning away.

"You didn't crush the almonds properly, the inside was much too wet and saggy while the exterior was far too crispy, the peu saupoudre du

gingembre was far too overdone-and unnecessary, I might add-while you didn't introduce anything new to this beloved dish. If I didn't know

better, I'd say YOU'D got it from Lala Dean! And you didn't even follow the instructions!"

"HEY! I do NOT watch Lala Dean! And if I did, I'd watch it between commercials for only thirty minutes or so! It's not like I....tape them, buy the

DVD collections, or have a secret longing to get tickets for one of her-"

Jorgan's face turned red.

Elmer shot a somewhat smug glance at the macho fairy.

Timmy blinked.

As did most of the audience.

"Wow. Just when ya think you know a person."

Cosmo scratched his head.

"What? I LIKE Lala Dean! She's funny-she makes great food.....unlike someone I happen to know-but whenever I try to get a taste of her food,

it tastes like glass!"

Wanda glared at him, while Timmy sighed.

"It's because you LICK the glass on the TV, Cosmo! And I was referring to the fact that Elmer is a cold hearted, Lord of Horror, picture perfect

perfectionist when it comes to cooking!"

"But it's sooooo shiny!" the fairy moaned, rocking back in forth in complete dismay.

While Jorgan continued sobbing, Wanda shook her head.

"Gee, no wonder he hardly ever trades his dessert. I thought his Mom was just a good cook."

Poof shot Timmy a puzzled glance as both Cosmo and Timmy answered simultaneously.

"MOMS can be good cooks?"

The fairy sighed wearily, and waved her wand once-twice.

POOF!

And the two's mouths were promptly zipped shut.

Wanda turned to the jury with a frown as she rose into the air.

"This court is ridiculous! We're leaving n-"

The judge cleared his throat.

"Why, Mrs. FairyWinkle-that shows CONTEMPT in court! And...."

And eleven lasers pointed directly at her forehead. Wanda gulped, face turning pale as she silently sank back down.

"....you wouldn't want to be guilty of contempt in court, would you?"

Poof's eyes began to water. The boy glared at the Jury before unzipping his lip at last.

A terrible, more then certainly fake smile rose on Wanda's face.

"Nope! Not at all! We COULD leave....."

The lasers redirected again, as Wanda's eyes travelled up.

"Or....we COULD just stay right here! Sitting still. I LIKE sitting still! Particulary when there are big, scary friends from the FCIA with LASERS

around!"

"That's the spirit," commented the judge, shuffling through the photos AJ had given him with a frown.

Timmy jumped up.

"HEY! You can't just threaten us!"

Thirty six lasers directed themselves on every particle of Timmy's body. The boy sank down.

"Or....maybe you can."

----

"So....Elmer.....who showed up at Parent Teacher Night for Timothy Turner?"

The boy pointed at the two fairies in the opposite box.

"They did."

The Judge nodded again.

"And...at your last bake sale-"

Elmer's eyes widened in horror as the glass in his spectacles shattered.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The boy's scream echoed with many of the children in the audience.

The Judge started, obviously not expecting a violently shaking Elmer to duck under the witness bench, hands over his head.

"What in tarnation-?!"

The boy moaned as Jorgan roughly pulled him out and jerked him back on the chair, looking nauceous.

"Mrs. Turner's....lemon.....l-lemon squares..."

The boy buried his face in his hands.

"It was as if someone stabbed me in the neck......and....and...."

Jorgan handed the boy a tissue, which he blew into gratefully.

"Everything I eat STILL kinda tastes a little lemony."

"So, you're saying, that if you were left on a desert island for three days with nothing to eat but Mrs. Turner's lemon squares or a pile of rocks,

what would you choose?"

Elmer thought for a minute.

"What kind of rocks are they?"

Mrs. Turner scowled.

----

"So...Mr......?"

"Mark Chang, dude."

Jorgan looked skeptically at the alien for a moment before returning to his clipboard.

"Do you resent the Turners at any way at all?"

The alien blinked, looking very much taken aback.

"Me-nah."

The Turners managed beams.

Jorgan flipped a page.

"And-why is that so?"

Mark grinned.

"Why? Cause, without their utterly careless hiring of my Antagonistic, Beloved, Cruel, Demented, Evil, Foul, Ghastly, Hot, Idylic, Just-plain

dastardly-Kingdom of terror, Lordess of Pain, Mean, No heart, O-so-Pretty, Queen of Darkness, Ruler of the Shadows, Sadistic, Terrible,

Unkind, Vile, Warlike, Xceptionally Nasty-which is how you spell it on MY planet, anyhoo-Yours truly of the bog, and Z-are you getting all this?"

The fairies in the council were frantically taking notes-an occasional arm bursting into dust.

Jorgan sighed, and faced the crowds, hands folded behind his back.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I hope there are no more questions."

----

"So......whatever I say WON'T get Timmy in trouble?"

Jorgan groaned.

"YES, Tootie. Just TELL us. How did you become romantically attached to Turner?"

You could practically see the hearts explode before the girl's eyes. Timmy groaned and ducked under the desk, as Elmer had done.

"I was in Kindergarten-and Timmy's parents had just dropped him off. They didn't even GLANCE back.....so, Francis began beating the stuffing

out of him.

Then, V-V-Vicky came by....and called me a doo-doo brain. I started crying, and I ran off behind the building.

Then...." The girl sighed, looking ready to float out of her seat.

"Tiiiiiiimmmmmmmy followed me."

Cosmo was busy catching this on home video with a big smile. Timmy groaned again, and attempted to swipe the device out of Cosmo's hands.

Unsuccessfully.

"Maybe it was just the dirt and bruises everywhere, but he looked beautiful, in the morning light. Especially when he asked me to stop crying,

'cause he now had a migraine headache.

I couldn't. The bell rang. Timmy glanced at the school, then back at me. He handed me a cupcake with A CRIMSON CHIN RING ON TOP OF THE

FROSTING!"

"That was SIX YEARS AGO! SIX! SIX!"

Members of the jury began to cry, occasionally pulling out a tissue to blow into.

The large fairy shook his head, wiping at his own eyes.

"Uh....okay. But how long as this "Francis" gone after puny Turner?"

Tootie frowned in concentration.

"Uh.....up till then to yesterday afternoon."

------

"So....WHY am I here?"

Dark Laser frowned, drumming his fingers on the desk.

"I was at a very important meeting with Flipsy! And now I end up at some kind of-?!"

"Dark Laser," interrupted Jorgan impatiently.

"Did you once offer a scholarship to the boy-thus asking him to be a demented servant of yours-and, were you admitted to the Turner's house

on two occasions?"

"Three, actually. The day BEFORE yesterday, I disguised myself as a salesman and-"

------


	5. Jurisdiction

Jurisdiction

Sorry if I didn't update yesterday, people. I've been a little depressed as of late, and my heart hasn't been in it. :( My bad.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*****************************************************************************************************************

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_Quote:_

_She put the wedge upon my heart_

_And then she brought the mallet down_

_She sang no song to guide her work_

_I lost my heart without a sound_

The buff fairy paced back and forth, hands clasped in each other quite tightly as the Jury's eyes followed him around before he came to an

abrupt stop in front of the witness chair.

"So....how long have you wished to wipe Turner off the face of the earth?"

Timmy groaned, and buried his face in his hands as Jorgan spoke to the next witness.

A smirk. Imaginary Gary ran a comb through his carefully gelled hair with a strangled hiss.

"Uh-yeah-Sparky-I'm do for a manicure back at Chez Timmy de'Hatred. And then bingo. So....NOT cool."

Jorgan rolled his eyes.

"YOU're in for a manicure?"

The young boy who, strangely enough, had Chester's voice in a lower and cooler pitch-flushed.

"Humiliating me in public-NOT cool. At least _I_ don't get the FRENCH TIPS!"

Jorgan's face contorted, as he held up a hand-and, sure enough, his fingernails were in an elegantly, milky white pattern.

"HEY! I happen to like that style! And, YOU ARE AVOIDING THE QUESTION! How long have you wanted to-?!"

The boy rolled his eyes, and adjusted his glasses, shaking his head in frustration.

"Dude-excessive anger and shouting-NOT cool. I was born one day because Timmy's Mama and Daddio-" he gestured at the two, who were

staring at him in return, faces alight with astonishment.

Timmy's mother squinted at the boy's familiar features.

"Hey.....aren't you.....Gary? The boy Timmy used to always talk about?"

Mr. Turner's face turned to the color of curdled milk.

"Didn't we get rid of you in therapy?"

----

"So, anyhoo-Timmy's mom and old man-"

Mr. TUrner jumped up, face livid.

"HEY! This is the rudest, non existant, dream I've ever had! I'm HIP!"

Timmy's mother rolled her eyes as Mr. Turner started.

"OW! My BACK!"

Tamara Turner inched her violet chair away, looking repulsed.

"Ewwww......you're not hip-you're old!"

Gary breathed in, looking extremely annoyed as Jorgan turned back to face him.

----

"Long story short-while Vicky was watching The Lord of The Onion Rings-wicked cool special effects, I might add-Timmy invented me."

The boy managed a somewhat wistful sigh.

"Ah.....those were the days. I remember being on the seesaw with Timmy. Watching the incredibly NOT awesomesauce ToddlerTubbers on the

picture box-and those long, eventful sessions we had at the pyschiologist's-"

Jorgan nodded, looking like a well satisfied cat, and snapped his thumbs.

And Imaginary Gary disappeared in a puff of purple fog.

___

Timmy stood up, fists clenched as an exasperated groan slipped from his

"Jorgan....what is the POINT of all this?"

Jorgan groaned.

"An attention span the size of a goldfish's. More....unworthy parenting, not doubt."

As the jury frowned and murmured amongst themselves, Timmy scratched his head.

"Uh....what were we talking about again?"

Wanda sprang up, and Jorgan flinched back slightly.

There were many things to be feared in this world-a crying fairy baby, a fairy baby breaking wind, the end of the universe, and an angry

woman.

Emphasis on Angry woman.

"This is ridiculous! It's not OUR fau-"

Jorgan stomped over, combat boots causing a clunk on the polished marble floor as he turned to face the cowering green fairy and the glaring

pink.

"YOUR attention span is nothing short of worse, Wanda!"

Cosmo blinked.

"And.....uh....what is this attention span of which you speak?"

Jorgan shook his head.

"Maybe we ought to inspect the GODparents file," he muttered to himself, before waving his oversized wand with an impatient flick.

SMASH!

And, in a blur of papers, Timmy's brown file fell onto the desk with a terrific bang as the tremblings legs of the table promptly crashed to the

ground.

As the four drew to it with open mouths, Timmy's mother frowned as she stood, face beset with indignation.

"So....you're calling US unfit parents?"

The fairy rolled his eyes as he sank into the prosecuting party's table.

"What gave you the first clue? The nine witnesses I called up-which included the entire Viking Brigade of the Hun army-or the pirates of the

Midwestern sea?"

"Well, I-"

The judge crashed his hammer against the fine mahogony of his desk.

"Come to the point, Von Strangle."

The fairy flinched.

"Very well. The point and jurisdiction of this entire, stupid-"

Jorgan swallowed as the judge glared at him.

"Oh, very well-this _non-_believe it or not-stupid case for guardianship is between the Turners and Puny-"

"JORGAN!"

"Keep your hairnet on, your most honored fairyship."

As the judge's face became somewhat concerned, he quickly glanced into a mirror Vandissimo had given him on his birthday.

"This case is for permanent custodial guardianship of Timothyy Turner. If the birth parents prove to be better guardians then the fairies, they

shall be granted it, and all rights reserved until Turner reaches the legal age of eighteen.

If not...." Jorgan reached for his eyeglasses, and perused his copy of Da Rules.

"Parental Guardianship will be permanently handed over to God parent or parents in question. In Turner's case, his fairy family."

Timmy staggered, face contorting into shock. Jorgan continued nevertheless.

"Forever and ever. Oh......and did I mention all associates of said person-meaning Turner-forget he ever existed?"

As the room was overwhelmed by sharp intakes of breath, Timmy managed a strangled, incomphrensive murmur before falling onto the floor.

As Wanda frantically began to fan him with a cloth, Cosmo glanced at one of the nearby Television cameras with a gulp.

"And....we'll be back after this long, irratating, segment of commercials."


	6. Family and Fate

Family and Fate

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Timmy yanked himself up, heart pounding quite painfully in his chest.

"Wh-what?!"

Poof blinked, still looking bewildered. Timmy swayed, clutching the polished mahogony in front of him, looking quite queasy.

But more then anything, uncertain.

"Are you saying whoever wins this gets to keep me? But I want BOTH of my families, J-Jorgan! You c-can't do t-this to me!"

Wanda bit her lip, looking very uncomfortable as she perused her own small, more dignified copy of the rules as the jury murmured amongst

themselves.

"Uh....sport....I hate to tell you this.....but according to the rules-page one hundred seventy two, passage eight, paragraph nine does strictly

state that if the honored Fairy World council finds a parent guility of abuse....neglect.....blah blah blah blah blah.....then YES....the child in

question is taken away to live in...Fairy World."

Wanda lowered her book, looking extremely uncertain as Timmy's blue orbs widened.

_"What?!"_

The fairy just nodded, chewing at her lip-a habit the fairy had picked up when she was nervous.

"The godparents in question are stripped of their...." Wanda froze, and whipped to face the judge.

_"We lose our jobs?!"_

Cosmo let out a cry, pounding his fist against the desk with every slightly feminine shriek.

"Noooooooo! I'll be unemployed! I won't have a work life which is basically my home life depending on how you look at it!"

The green fairy, now in a panic, frantically waved his wand, and poofed himself up an enormous basket of churros, which the violet eyed baby

noticed immediately as his tiny stomach rumbled.

As the two dove in, Cosmo continued to sob in between each bite.

"We'll STARVE to death! It'll be just my godson, baby, wife, and most importantly me out on the cold, cruel world with nothing but an almost

unlimitless supply of magic power to obey our every, stupidest little whim!"

Wanda groaned, and pinched the bridge of her nose with one hand as she waved her wand in the other.

"I'm going to hit myself with this frying pan now." she stated dully, as Cosmo's eyes glinted.

"I'm going to hit myself with this frying pan now!"

"So....Mama Cosma.....what is YOUR stand on Timothy Turner's parents?"

The woman rolled her eyes, arms crossed.

"How should I know?! It's not like _I've _ever met them. I barely know my own grand godson-" she paused, looking confused.

"Is that a word....? Well, it is now. Anyway, I hardly know my own godson-except on those fuzzy occasions my sweet Comsmie-"

The fairy groaned, and promptly poofed himself into an ostrich, and jammed his head underneath the floor with a loud CRACK.

"-and that hideous shrew he calls a wife leave me to babysit them for an hour or so. I just like to pinch my grandchildren's cheeks!"

Poof winced. Timmy felt the urge to wish up those "cheeks of stell" he had in that one now slightly lame virtual reality game. He bit it back

with some difficulty as Jorgan contuined.

"Well, nagging old lady.....do you have any objections to Timmy living with his birth parents?"

Mama Cosma frowned.

"Doesn't seem like it really matters to me.....why?" she asked, playing with a stray, neon emerald strand of her hair absentmindedly.

"What happens if he DOESN'T?"

Jorgan groaned, but checked his paperwork again.

"Turner will be sent to a secondary guardian, under court jurisdiction. In other words, wings WILL have to be implanted on his back-"

"Don't _I_ get any say in this?!"

Jorgan turned.

"Hmm....let me see....let me think....ah! Here we go!"

He loomed over the ten year old, signature scowl on his face.

"NO! Now, hush, puny Turner! Anyhow, he gets sent to live with your son, grandson, and daughter-in-law, which the court seems to find you

loathe with every particle of your being."

Jorgan flipped a page.

"Oh....and they are promptly returned to Fairy World as residents."

Cosma stared.

For the first time in her life, she was lost for words.

"You mean.....are you saying....my son and his family will have to move BACK to Fairy World?"

The fairy nodded. Cosma paused.

And then, poofed herself into that of a medieval woman, waving a flaming pitchfork.

"BAD PARENTS! BAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDD PARENTS!"

The fairy shot off towards the bewildered Turners, and began to jab at them.

"Lousy, rotten, vile, despicable-"

Mr. Turner gulped before turning to his wife.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I, as the dominant male in our family, shall shield you as seen such in the appropiate matter which is that of a

husband!"

Mama Cosma looked a bit like a scary, demented, and now somewhat filthy Father Christmas as she unloaded a dirty sack from her back, and

threw it to Mr. Turner.

As the man curiously peered in....five foaming weasels poked OUT.

And Timmy's mother sighed as they began to tear at her husband with foaming teeth.

"EEEEEYAGGHHHHH! Aw-honey...isn't that sweet? We finally have an all-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

----

"So.....what DO you known about them? DO you find them good caretakers? WELL?"

The boy inched backwards in his seat, astonished face becoming revolted.

"Dude. Seriously. MOUTH. WASH."

As the ten year old looked onto the side, still chewing his fingernails so hard they were falling behind him like shredded wood from a chipper,

he gulped.

Great....

Of ALL the people to poof up.....

Cousin Danny.

The fourteen year old glanced at Timmy, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh...Timmy? What...?"

The boy let out a weary sigh.

"You're dreamin', Dan. Just dreaming."

Danny glanced around the courtroom, hundreds and hundreds of colorful eyes fixed upon him. He swallowed.

Must have been that casserole mom made last night....though, unlike his aunt Tamara's, Mom's cooking was actually edible.

"Uh....Aunt and Uncle Turner, y' mean? For Timmy?"

The judge nodded.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

Danny just continued his deadpan stare.

"Are you SURE you're not all ghosts?"

----

"Cosmo....what say you? What do you think about Timmy's parents?"

Danny was sitting beside Timmy in an extra chair chair, reaching for their water jug and glass.

"Dude.....um....this doesn't FEEL like a dream."

The ten year old boy simply shrugged.

"Well...it IS. How's uncle Jack?"

Danny turned to face Cosmo again-who was in the witness booth, being told to raise his right hand. But he kept dragging up his left hand onto

the book, then his left foot, his right, his head, his elbow, and he was about to try turning around when Jorgan released a howl of frustration

and slammed Cosmo's ace beneath the pages.

"Well...he got charged by the Amity Park City Council for Unnecessary Interference, convicted of falsely accusing several people as ghosts,

reckless driving, and, he kinda owes the city two hundred bucks for repairs."

"Same old, same old?"

Danny nodded.

"Same old, same old."

----

Timmy leaned back in his seat, a look of relaxed bliss on his face as he put his tiny hands behind his head. Danny turned to look at him,

suddenly confused.

"Uh...Tim? Is this your nightmare or mine? Cause, if it's yours, you don't seem too concerned."

Timmy just managed a small laugh as he tipped precariously on the chair.

"This is a piece of pie. Who's better to listen to then the godparents themselves? Once Cosmo straightens this all out, we can all get out of

this cour-er...dream, and I can go back to _celebrating!"_

Danny's face brightened.

_"_Aw...that's right! March Twenthieth? Jazz mentioned it to me last night. Happy bir-"

"WORSE PARENTS EVER!"

Danny froze. And Timmy promptly fell over in his chair.

* * *

Wanda made a frantic "shiing" motion, but Cosmo didn't seem to notice.

"I mean, come on! PINK HAT?! That's just cruel! And I couldn't trust my own baby with those two for an hour without panicking!"

Cosmo waved to a starkly pale Timmy.

"Hey, Timmy! I'm proving your parents gui...." Cosmo paused, and held up in a dictionary upside down.

"Or...uh...was that "innocent?"

Jorgan just nodded, face satisfied as Poof let out a tiny groan and buried his head in his hands.

"Very well, puny fairy. Go and sit with those two, who, creepily enough, have the same hairstyle."

The three glanced at each other, but said not a word.

You could hear a pin drop in the deafening silence before the judge cleared his throat.

"According to the book...."

Cosmo jumped up.

"Ooh! A book? Really?! Is it a young adult vampire romance?!"

Silence, save for the crickets chirping in the background, as every pair of eyes was currently staring at the emerald fairy in astonishment.

Cosmo rolled his eyes as he clasped four books to his heart.

"What? I'm not allowed to appreciate fine literature concerning romance and philosophy between numerous teenagers-mostly two to three-

who are wrapped up in a situation too complicated for most adults with a spin on several classical novels, such as Shakespeare?" Cosmo

hmpphed.

"Fairy Meyer makes works of art for girls-and me-over the globe! So THERE!"

Wanda sighed, yanking the books away impatiently.

"Cosmo.....DEAR.....did you take your medicine this morning?"

Cosmo nervously fingered his collar.

"Maybe."


	7. Mallet drops The Jury has Spoken

_Hello, again, everyone! By the anyhoo, you might notice that FOP has been slipping in hints of Danny Phantom lately. I don't want to ruin any_

_thing for you, so if you don't feel like being read any spoilers, please feel fre to skip down._

_On Mr. Right, you may notice that Guy Moon and Butch (Who's real name is ELmer, thus one of the characters on the show ^^) arranged _

_Danny's voice actor to be Nancy the Wrestler on Mr. RIght. He/She only said two words, which were, "You're right!" before daintily taking leave_

_of Francis, but after a good listening, this was evidenced as such. :)_

_Wow, this makes me sound kinda hardcore,. I don't even watch FOP this much....._

_Ah, well. In Fly Boy, of course, you will notice Dash in the movie-that was a slightly hysterical move by itself.....if not kinda creepy, the way he_

_spoke. I dunno. I don't like Dash. :p _

_And the last, to prevent any confusion, is the name Vlad-which is Timmy's grandfather's name (On the other side....this dude is NOT Pappy.)_

_To any fan of Danny Phantom who knows the link between the series, you may see my own hints in the story-such as referring to the fact _

_that Danny, Cosmo, and and Timy all have the same hairstyle, to the references of Amity Park, Danny, and Jack. _

_Sorry if I bored you-just a few interesting facts most of you already know._

_Take care!_

Timmy raced over to Jorgan, clenching Wanda's copy of Da Rules.

"Uh-HELLO! You said it yourself! I'm not SUPPOSED to be zapped into a fairy! And THAT'S against the rules, lover boy!"

Jorgan sighed, and picked up the small copy before pulling out his spectacles again.

"Hmmm.....let's see...."

Jorgan's eyes widened.

"Ah....that's a good point, TUrner. Verrrry good point."

THe ten year old released a sigh, heart rate slowing slightly back to normal.

"Which is why, should your parent lose this case, Doctor Studwell-"

Cosmo looked up, slightly teary eyed as he read a thick book marked _Timmy Totter. _

"I still say Timmy and Harmonica woulda been a cute couple! Oh, and it's Doctor RIP Studwell, Timmy."

Jorgan ignored this as he pointed to one of the waving, beaming members of the audience.

"True enough, Turner. What magic can't do, painful, body alterating, expensive, surgery can!"

Doctor Rip Studwell smile widened.

And he pulled out a chainsaw.

* * * * * * * *

"Jorgan, having people pass out in court may be a sign of CONTEMPT."

Mrs. Turner scooped up her motionless sopn, awkwardly waving her own handkerchief in front of his face.

She hadn't seen him quite like this since the time she had taken him to the opera.

And then to a play of Hamlet.

And then a nursery, while she looked at petunias, in a frantic attempt to find SOME flower that wouldn't die when she touched them.

Judging by the roses, geraniums, violets, sunflowers, daisies, marigolds, lupines, poppies, lilies, venus fly traps, black eyed susans, tulips,

baby's breath, and buttercups, it was not going so hot.

No wonder the salesman had been keen to give her a wide berth.

That was over three miles away.

--------------------

"Timmy.....Timmy....c'mon, sweetie..."

Mr. TUrner said something, but seeing as he was now being attacked by wild coyotes, he was a little preoccupied at the moment.

THe judge swung his hammer back and forth.

"Last witnesses: Timmy's Grandfather and grandmma-Vlad and Gladys!"

Danny shot Timmy's feebly stirring a look.

"Uh.....Timmy? Did you they say your gram-"

THUD!

The hammer went crashing down.

------

Gladys blinked, reaching for her ear trumpet.

"Um.....wasn't I just stacking the yakction figures? I...."

The judge turned in his seat to face her from his podium, munching on a sandwich.

"Ah.....Mrs. and Mr......um...." he trailed off somewhat awkwardly.

"Is it true that you come from southern Youstinkistan?"

Gladys nodded, looking a litrtle blank.

"I KNEW that Yak parfait was a bad idea," she murmured slightly to herself, shaking her head.

"And what is your opinion of one of the breadwinners in the Turner home....your son-in-law?"

Vlad blinked.

"Oh! Quite simple, my dear man, quite simple. As for our little sweetie and our _bubbele _Timmy, no problem....although Timmy does rather remind

me of an escaped mental ward patient I met a few years ago....and, as for our son-in-llaw.....how do I say this....."

"We hate him."

"Ah! Right! Thank you, dear."

------

Timmy's heart was pounding like that of a drum's as he seized Poof's hand. AJ frowned slightly, from where he still sat in the audience.

"Um....why is Timmy hugging a purple eyed basketball?"

Chester shrugged from beside him, and patted him ojn the shoulder.

"Ah, AJ, you are too young to know the horrors of a courtroom. The mentality! The stress! The tribulation! One day, the time will come that you

will feel the sa-"

The young genius frowned.

"Hey! I have a college educaation....and I'm nine months OLDER then you!"

Chester simply shrugged.

"Oooookay. The time has come."

----

It had come too soon.

While Dr. Rip Studwell was busy applying stitches to sixty nine percent of Mr. Turner's body, Cosmo turned to the still stricken ten year old.

"Hey, if you want me to make it better, Timmy, I can always remind the judge of the time your parents made you put on that ducky suit when

you were-"

:A hand plastered itself over his mouth.

"Cosmo, SHUSH!"

Wanda's face appeared strained as she bit her lip. Timmy fingered his hat.

"Uh....guys? If this is a dream set up for me as a distraction like when you were planning my fairyversary party, then this isn't fun anymore."

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Blue-grey eyes burned as the judge grasped his hammer.

"In all my years of-" The judge turned to face the baliff with a sigh.

"Um.....how long have I been in power, again?"

The baliff shrugged.

"Two days, sir. Judge Fairy Rudy left for a vacation three years ago and never came back."

The judge scratched his head, but continued all the same.

"In my less then forty nine and a half hours of being a judge, I cannot BELIEVE to understand the negligence-"

Mr. Turner staggered up.

"HEY! So untrue! I occasionally remember Tommy's name!"

He gulped.

The jury was NOT looking at him endearingly.

Truth be told, one elderly member was shrieking "BURN THEM! BURN THEM LIKE WE USED TA IN THE OLD DAYS!"

Luckily, she was ignored.

The judge went on.

"The IRRESPONSIBILITY-"

Timmy frantically shook his head.

"That's not true! I-"

"-and the utter _contempt_ you have shown that of your own flesh and blood......

Tamara and what's your name Turner, I, and the mmembers of this court, find you-"

The ten year old boy closed his eyes.

It felt like the entire earth had dropped from his feet.

As the jury stood in a sea of color, one word rang out in the halls.

_"Guilty._

_Guilty!_

_GUILTY!"_

And the entire Court audience gasped.

Except for Big Daddy and Mama Cosma, who cheered.

_------_

Cosmo's eyes filled with tears as he flew up to the ceiling.

"WHY?!" he screamed.

"WHEN?!"

"WHERE?!"

"WH-?!"

The mallet struck the desk again.

"Enough! Court is recessed for ten minutes, while condsideration for Mr. Turner's future shall take place. I declare this case recessed, as of

right now!"

_Thwack!_

The mallet went down again.


	8. Hearts

Hearts

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This was a dream.

That was all.

Even as the small boy was led away from the court room, his face remained blank.

It wasn't his birthday.

That too-had been a dream.

He had to wake up soon-morning was near. He had never really cared about waking up in time on the week days, but on the week ENDS-well,

that was something else entirely.

"Timmy?"

Ah, there was Mom-probably checking to see if he was awake or not. Timmy just gazed at his hands, pondering lightly away....

"Uh.....Timmy?"

That was Dad. Timmy shifted slightly from where he sat-which, truth be told, he convinced himself he was still sleeping in his bed.

Dad had to cut the lawn.

And Mom had to do her accounting after making breakfast-which hopefully would be a-do-it-yourself. Mom was a kind enough person, but her

cooking was so terrible, she could easily ruin cereal.

Someone was tapping his face. His fairies were trying to wake him in a non explosive manner? That was weird enough by itself.

Timmy's blue orbs became slightly dilated as he stared thoughtfully into the distance, pondering random things in his mind.

So _that_ was why they were never able to build a boat on Guligan's Island. He always asked himself why....

"Uh...Turner? You're kinda creepin' me out."

Jorgan stared at the small boy, bewildered at his comatose state in Wanda's lap. The pink eyed fairy just kept stroking his hair, calling his

name out softly.

"Timmy....? Timmy? Oh, dear..." she shot a hopeless look at Cosmo.

The green haired fairy scratched his head.

"Uh.....I kinda think he's stunned."

Wanda shook Timmy's shoulders.

"Timmy....uh...sport? You okay?"

Still silence. Wanda groaned, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I can't believe this is happening!"

Cosmo was busy reading a small carton. He shook his head.

"I can't believe it's not butter!"

******************************************************************************************************************

The little butterball of a fairy landed on Timmy's own lap, staring at the deadened, dreamy blue orbs curiously as he tapped Timmy's damp

cheek with a petite hand.

Why was Timmy's face wet? And why wasn't he blinking?

Timmy's lack of moving was getting kind of disturbing. So Poof began to whimper, in the hopes of gaining the ten year old boy's reaction.

Not a word.

Not a sound.

Cosmo shook himself slightly.

"Hey, Timmy. What's up?"

But the boy didn't seem to hear him. Cosmo turned to face where Timmy was so morosely staring at. He scowled.

"Oh, ha, ha, ha. The ceiling. Verrrry funny."

He paused for a moment.

"Actually-That IS funny! I need to remember that!"

As he poofed up in upside down diary, he glanced at Wanda.

"How do you spell "Timmy?"

The fairy groaned.

"T-I-M-M-Y."

Cosmo nodded importantly before pausing again.

"Uh....Wanda? How do I write?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jorgan curiously picked up Timmy's already very noodle like arm, set it down, picked it up, and set it down again.

With an impatient thrust of his wand, Jorgan poofed up a megaphone, and a large pile of firecrackers.

-----

Timmy did nothing in response to the explosions.

Cosmo bit his lip.

Okay, now Timmy was seriously creeping him out. It was worse then his flashlight-and-smile-of-pure-evil routine!

Or the time he wished himself emotionless.

Or the-

Jorgan stamped his foot, as people began to mill around them.

"_TIMMY TURNER!"_

Even at the echoing cry, Timmy still did nothing. The fairy swallowed.

"He's standing his ground! Er....sitting!"

Big Daddy whirled to face them from the milling crowds.

_"He knows that, deep down, all bullies are cowards!"_

Francis jumped up.

"RUN! Run for your lives!"

Wanda frowned.

"Hey! How'd you get here?"

The bully shrugged, and held out a badly written, extremely mispelled invitation.

"I was just goin' to give the birthday boy a birthday BASH."

Wanda turned to glare at Cosmo, who managed a watery smile.

"Um....I thought Timmy's enemies should be there! Y'know, touch of nostalgia!"

Anti Cosmo drifted by, as did Dark Laser, Super Bike, and Remy Buckasplenty, paper all clenched in their hands.

"Well.....guess that explains THESE."

----

Jorgan turned in mid flight to stare at Timmy Turner.

What had happened? It was as though the boy had locked all of his words away.

The last case that had been similiar to this one-a certain Denzel Crocker's-had a different ending, as it had been proven the woman COULD

care for him...but he had acted so much more...

Life like.

As stupid as that sounded, Jorgan couldn't help but state it.

Turner looked like a broken marionette-or, like the Tin Solider-he had to wipe away a tear, that story STILL made him cry-that had been baked

in the oven alongside the ballerina.

He swallowed, and blew his nose into the lace embroidered hanky in his pocket.

They were getting the signal to go back in. Jorgan turned once more.

He shuddered.

It was best not to look at that face, and know that he had caused it.

For the first time in many millenia, the fairy felt the smallest surge of pity well inside of him.


	9. Applying Wings

Hallo, everyone. Sorry for my leaving you off like that….

My bad, my bad. Due to my joint custody of my guardians-my life is a lot more complicated. L Ah, well. Sorry if I left you hanging there for a bit.

This chapter goes out to AryandEragon4ever. ^^ May the wait for the Last Inheritance-Empire- be short and sweet.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"No other **surgery** affects people in quite this way. For it is unthinkable, finally, that one's heart should be cut open. It is the one unthinkable cut."

"Hey, Timmy, how much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?"

Silence. Finally, Timmy's lips twitched. This joke had been as old as time.

Or as Cosmo put it, older then Wanda.

"A woodchuck'll chuck as much wood as a woodchuck CAN chuck wood, Co-"

Suddenly, Timmy's face took on a grey pallor, and he swayed slightly in his seat. Wanda seized him by the shoulders, looking rather sickly herself as his head lolled to the side.

"Put your head between your knees, sweetie…..that's it, just a few deep breaths, now."

Cosmo blinked, looking puzzled.

"Wow…that's kinda cool! Are you taking up yoga, Timmy?"

The green haired (and eyed) fairy tugged at his arms in a self important matter….

….and then gulped as he accidentally ripped the limb off.

He turned to his wife, pressing the other arms against the other so the thumbs could twiddle.

"Uh, Wanda….d'you have any scotch tape?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Order! ORDER!"

Cosmo jumped in his seat.

"Ooh! Oooooh! For what? Chinese Food? Dibs on the Goo Goo Gai Pan!"

Poof shot his father a look. Remembering the small fact that his infant son could easily pound him into the earth, Cosmo gulped.

"Make that a DOUBLE order. Or-are you not getting Chinese? If so-I want Pizza! Jelly beans and ketchup on MINE!"

Cosmo frowned, scratching his head with what used to be lefty's fingers.

"Uh….actually, no sauce on mine. Or cheese. Or crust. I just want the rabies flavoring! They're what gives a meal an extra zip!"

Chester shot him the thumbs up from the audience.

"Everything tastes better with them!"

Silence. Wanda raised her hand.

"Uh, your honor, I'd like to be judged in a separate trial."

- - -

The judge paused.

"Tamara and what's-your-name Turner-"

"HEY! I have a name!" shouted Mr. Turner indignantly, leaning on a pair of crutches somewhat precariously.

"It's-"

At this moment, Tootie started an extremely loud coughing fit in the stands. People turned to her slightly, staring. Meanwhile, Mr. T was finishing.

"-and don't you forget it!"

A pause. The judge sighed.

"Anyhoo, may I PLEASE just get to the-"

A hand rose from the stands.

"Your honor, if I may interrupt?"

* *

The Judge ground his teeth together, eyes rolling, and his knuckles began to whiten slightly from his grip.

"Will you HURRY this UP?!" the man griped, shaking his head like an old dog ridding itself of bothersome flies. "I have golf to play with Dr. Studwell-"

"Dr. RIP Studwell," corrected the majority of the audience.

"-whatever. After his incredibly long and difficult surgery!"

Wanda blinked, and turned to the jury.

"What? YOU'RE going under the knife, Doctor?"

The fairy flashed a dazzling smile and laughed heartily.

"You kill me, Wanda….ya kill me….but to answer your question: NO. I'm not doing the limbo under a series of life threateningly dangerous and utterly stupid reconfigurations!"

"Weren't you listening before? Timmy is."

The boy blinked.

And blinked again.

And thudded on the floor before he said another word.

The MD Fairy groaned.

"I gotta do something with that disorder…it's almost as bad as those FACES the kid makes when he freaks out."

Jorgan had been the one to raise his arm, looking doubtful.

"Uh, your honored fairyship…we have a problem here."

An exasperated groan.

"What?!"

The fairy who had raised his hand-Jorgan-looked uneasy as he poofed himself over to the judge's side, and promptly began whispering in his ear.

The expression became somewhat doubtful on the Judge's face as he drew back.

"I KNOW that one won't be affected. The whole true yadda yadda yadda. I get it, I get it. After the third month, THEY'LL deal with it."

Timmy stared desperately at the muscle bound fairy, who would not meet his eyes as he withdrew, and poofed himself back on the seats.

Who or what was "that one?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Turner-AS I WAS SAYING-"

There was a pause, in which the Judge's sharp eyes scanned the perimeter, to be certain he would not be interrupted.

"-you have been found guilty of all present charges. How do y-oh." The judge scratched his head.

Right, right, onto the good stuff…

*

"-and, charged with obvious disregard of Fairy Law-"

"People like you are in GOVERNMENT?! I demand representation, here! I didn't even get a lawy-"

The judge simply plowed on, eyes burning.

"For Timothy Tiberious Turner."

The judge glanced at his notes and frowned.

"Tiberious? And he laughs at Gregory…"

* *

Timmy swallowed, and clung to Poof, resisting the urge to suck his thumb with difficulty. He closed his eyes, but the dreaded words still came-

"-you are stripped of any parental laws and rights of him, as for this day on, and are awarded to Godparents in question: Mrs. Wanda and Cosmo Fairywinkle Cosma, for this day and forever on as a fairy."

_Thwack!_

The hammer came crashing down.

"Because our laws prohibit a painless transfusion with magic, Dr. Rip Studwell will see to Timmy now."

The doctor grinned, and lazily snapped his fingers.

Timmy looked up, blue orbs enormous-

And disappeared in a puff of smoke.


	10. Betwixt and Between

Well, everyone-the dreadnought is tomorrow.

Sigh....I start school.....

Revolting word, that one.

But, seeing as my life is about to get a lot more chaotic then it allready is, I suppose I'd be doing a disservice if I didn't use my last hours to

update.

Take care, all of you.

I feel Timmy's pain in this one. I had a lot of back surgery (though I can't say I had any wings applied) when I was younger.

Poof's eyes widened.

"T-T-Timmy?"

A brief pause.

And then, he burst into tears. Cosmo looked about him for a moment.

"No real Timmy? I'm wet and hungry? My arm is STILL dislocated from my body?"

He paused.

And burst into tears as well.

----------------------

"Take it easy, there, little buddy. Just breathe from this tube-it'll be fairly short before beddy bye."

Timmy just glared at the fairy as he slipped the plastic around Timmy's lips.

But, much to his dismay, even as his body was being pulled onto a gurney, the world began to rush past in slow motion.

Things began to become bleary, lights from nearby fluroscent bubls twinkling into different shades.

That humming, buzzing sound seemed to be people talking, but now, it was nearly impossible to make it out.

He could hear the muttering, and the _clink-clink-clanking_ sound of the wheels making contact with the floor before....

A flood of light. Timmy winced, hazy orbs flickering as people began to wash hands, pull on gloves, and reattach masks to themselves.

Someone gently turned him over, and something cool tapped his back.

That was the last thing Timmy remembered before fading into the night.

* * * * * *

Wanda's teeth gnashed together as she growled, eyes now become quite fiery.

The judge had long since dashed off, a fishing net and hat in toll. Jorgan shuddered.

Everyone else had been poofed away....

....except the second least person he wanted to see right now.

And, truth be told, he felt he'd rather be staring down an army of barracudas.


	11. A Mother gets terrifyingly Mad

"I can't BELIEVE you'd do this to Timmy!"

"Yeah! And I STILL can't believe it's not butter!"

SMASH.

Wanda's fist met the wall, knuckles silenty crying as she finally pulled them away, wincing as she felt them bruise.

She swayed, head extremely light, before allowing her body to slip to the floor. Poof turned to her, still clasping his Timmy doll.

_"I'm low-fat, and boy-licious!"_

_"What could possibly go wrong?"_

_"My fish are really-"_

"Mama?" squeaked Poof, face still buried in Timmy's stitched neck.

Wanda did not answer, pulling her knees to her face as she did so.

Cosmo raised an eyebrow-and for that, she couldn't blame him.

Wanda had never been the type of fairy who sat around and felt sorry for herself. If you fell, you got up.

If a horse bucked you, you got up.

If you fell off again, you got up.

If the horsie in general hadn't been in a particulary forgiving mood, called his buddies, and stampeded on you, well, you got up.

To call the ER.

But now, since by the time they had poofed up to the hospital, it was too late.

Timmy was already underneath the knife, and it was all her fault. She silently moaned to herself, before burying her face in her hands.

What a way to spend a birthday.

She should've been quicker. Her testimony should've been fullproof!

And it wasn't.

Timmy was going to be hurting when he awoke....

...and, if the surgery was interrupted now, it could result in Timmy's-!

She shuddered.

When they had rushed into the actual procedure room, all the doctors had been gathered, tightly skooshed around a table.

And Dr. Rip Studwell had pulled out a chainsaw.

Cosmo promptly passed out.

And she wasn't too far behind, until she realized that they were cutting a ham for their lunch break.

******************************************************************************************************************

Wanda poofed up her diary with a scowl.

So, THAT was how Jorgan wanted to play, huh?

She poofed up her purple feather and ink stone, and Cosmo inched away as she let a diabolical laugh tear from her throat asshe began her

frantic writing. Cosmo turned to Poof.

"Um....Poof? Mommy's just a little pyschotically scary at this point."

----

_Ways to torment Jorgan Von Strangle_

_When he's sleeping, replace velvety slippers with those of bunnies to show people before they take them away for ironing._

_Slip the shoes on his feet while he's still sleeping, and take pictures._

_Post the pictures on the web._

_Give phony signed photos of said picture to fairies._

_Say that, even though he is immortal, "Time is a wonderful teacher. Fortunately, it kills all of his pupils."_

_When he asks you a question, simply say this: "Just remember-there are no stupid questions. Just stupid people."_

_Summon Hun army, the New York mafia, and the Vikings to attack him._

_Find bazooka._

_Shoot him with said bazooka._

_Knock over your goblet-and spill grape juice onto his lap._

_Show everyone video tape of Preschool-Jorgan (When he danced the lead role in The Nutcracker's Sugar Plum Fairy Waltz.)_

_Show everyone tape of last year, when he took part in Swan Lake._

_Start a contest with Binky to see who can talk in the squeakiest voice._

_Go on a long journey with him-without magic-and wait to you get to a lonely, barren wasteland to tell him you're really hungry._

_Whine._

_Start a rousing round of "99 bottles of soda on the wall."_

_Once you're at your destination, claim you want to go home._

_Put you four S's to work: Sobbing, sulking, spitting, and screaming._

_Insist you pick up hitchhikers._

_Order the most expensive and difficult thing to prepare in the kitchens._

_Eat only a few bites, then complain of a stomach ache._

_Blow bubbles in your milk._

_Order dessert._

_If he refuses to allow you to order a dessert, throw a tantrum._

_Request a booster seat._

_Tell him that the tapioca pudding looks like fish eyes._

_Tell him the spaghetti looks like bloody worms._

_Mention to Binky that the tuna casserole he makes smells like cat vomit._

_Tell him "Your road to success is always under construction."_

_Give him an appointment with Dr. Phil._

_Send wolverines to his house every morning._

_Send skunks in the afternoon._

_And werewolves in the evening._

_Note to self: These animals should be well epuiped with rabies._

_Send my cooking to him._

_Send Timmy's Mom's cooking to him._

_Cancel his health insurance._

_When he tries to take something for the food poisioning, place beetles in the medication._

_Push him into Fluffy, The Unfriendly Cat's litterbox._

_Tell Catman Jorgan is a villan._

_Tell his sidekick-the old lady with arms like a body builder's Jorgan is a villian._

_Tell every American Crimson Chin, Japanese Crimson Chin, and Korean Crimson Chin he's a villan._

_Put a red sock with all of his white clothing when he next goes to the laundromat._

_Put trapdoors and feet on all of his jammies._

_Edit Military portrait to that of Street Mime's._

_Send US Missiles to-_

And the doors to the operating room slid open as Wanda looked up.


	12. Edelweiss

Edelweiss

_Quote:_

_"Edelweiss, Edelweiss  
Every morning you greet me  
Small and white, clean and bright  
You look happy to meet me._

Blossom of snow may you bloom and grow  
Bloom and grow forever….

Edelweiss, Edelweiss…  
Bless my homeland forever."

Feeling ill. I don't want to update much today.

Not sure why I used that quote….something simply prompted me to use the Edelweiss quote last night when I was thinking about the plot line. It seemed oddly soothing-a flower from my favorite movie to describe Timmy's rebirth.

Snowdrops are quite lovely-don't you think so? ^^

My sincerest apologies for the clumsy misspellings and/or errors in punctuation. I hope you'll forgive me for that…..

And now, without further anew, we begin the twelfth and final chapter.

Just jesting. ^^ I have no idea when, perchance, this tale will meet a conclusion, but it is my hope that we all enjoy this ride.

You may expect a shocker in this fiction-please take it with a grain of salt. It's not real. ^^

Adieu, Sayonara, Adios, Aloha, and whatnot in farewell.

Dr. Rip Studwell had simply rushed out without answering the Fairywinkle/Cosma's questions, grabbed a mask he had conveniently forgotten, and rushed back into the surgery chamber.

And three and a half agonizing hours went by.

If Poof wasn't cuddling his Timmy doll, he was wailing his head off.

As a distraction for everyone, Wanda poofed up her own homemade casserole….

….which didn't make things better, but it certainly WAS quite a distraction, pondering the sickishly green depths of the concoction below, and pondering, per chance, what might've died in it.

If it wasn't still alive, that is.

Cosmo poked at his lunch, looking slightly queasy.

Poof turned a brilliant shade of green. Wanda continued to pick at her own plate, still continually biting her lip, and drumming her fingers in the silence.

"Um….Wanda?"

Finally, the pink haired fairy looked up.

"Yes, dear?"

Cosmo carefully lowered his tray (The contents of his plate were busy snarling and writhing, and he'd rather take his chances with the plastic cup.)

Everyone knew plastic was good, and good for you.

Cosmo poofed up a gas mask as he inched the tray away, still looking nauseated. Luckily for his scalp, Wanda had gone back to glancing at her fingers, and every so often, the clock that was continually _tick-tick-ticking…._

"What…uh…is this?" The fairy prodded the tray still further away with the very tip of his wand.

NOW he could see what they meant in the song about the angry green Gronch, The Unfriendly Muppet with the whole, "I wouldn't touch you with a twenty-nine and half foot pole."

Though, truth be told, he wouldn't be happy LOOKING at this thing from anywhere in the continental US.

While Poof was busy vomiting in the nearby trash can, Wanda poofed up a twenty year old magazine to read.

"Tuna casserole," was all she said, frowning as she studied Blonda in last generation's fashion.

Who in the world thought Versailles wigs-which were up to eight feet high-would come back in a rage?

Cosmo glanced back at his meal.

"Oh. I kinda thought it was mayonnaise and cat food."

Wanda looked up just long enough to give him a filthy look before turning to Poof, her hand lightly fingering the spoon full of death. Poof inched away, looking repulsed.

"C'mon, sweetie, just one bite for Mommy? Open your mouth-here comes the airplane!"

If Poof could talk in a proper sense of the word, he would've been cursing the Wright Brothers right about now.

After Poof had stomached some of the mix, Wanda joined her fingertips together once more, head bowed as she stared at the graying carpet.

Well.

Immediate and Unnecessary Surgery, Parental loss, and-

Wanda just shook her head, simply too stunned to speak.

This couldn't of been one of Timmy's better birthdays.

Timmy….

…was going to be her real, her truly and unmistaken…

The fairy glanced at her restlessly tapping foot. It certainly wasn't giving her headache any favors.

She had often thought of the little boy so much or simply as good as her own child.

But to have him for a….?

This had happened far too quickly. Wanda closed her eyes.

Everyone…..EVERYONE Timmy had ever met was going to forget about him?

……….again?

Wanda began to rock back and forth in her seat, mind still buzzing with the day's events.

And it wasn't even technically noon.

How had this happened? Sure, the Turner Parents were no prize pigs on the terms of parental responsibility…but what harm had they ever gotten Timmy into?

Wanda reached for her list of _Things to do to Jorgen, _which ranged from plots hideous to simply vicious, and flicked impatiently for a new sheet.

_Number One: Built unstable Bicycle for Timmy to ride._

_Number Two: Left him with a babysitter three, four-heck, sometimes even five days a week that brought chainsaws, crocodiles, sharks, piranhas, and yodeling records._

_Number Three: Vicky, plain and simple._

_Number Four: Let Vicky move into house with family._

_Number Five: Are absent from most of Timmy's Soccer, Baseball, Parent/Teacher conferences, etc._

_Number Six: Made comment about how I've gained weight._

_A lot of weight….?_

_Number Seven: Made me check Da Rules to see if it was legal to incinerate them off the earth._

_Number Eight: Discovered it wasn't._

_Number Nine: Allowed scary man in scarcely concealed evil costume to pay for college education._

_Number Ten: Allowed Crocker into the house to hunt us down._

_Number Eleven: Did it again, despite Mr. Turner's rage at the "handsome" man intrusion._

_Number Twelve: Did it again._

_Number Thirteen: And again._

_Number Fourteen: Again._

_Number Fifteen: Nearly sent Timmy to Military school. Forced to act quickly with puppets._

_Number Sixteen: DID send Timmy to Military school. _

_Number Seventeen: Doidle._

_Number Eighteen: Gave Timmy a stick of deodorant, a rake, and a travel dictionary for Easter._

_Number Nineteen: Rejected desperate claims that Vicky is evil for nearly six years now or so. Give or take._

_Number Twenty: Made bet with each other to climb dangerous cliff that could've quite easily killed us all, considering the woodland creatures from beyond the-_

Wanda had to pause, and simply stared incredulously at her list.

Wow.

This guys were JERKS!

Maybe this WOULDN'T be so bad after all!

Wanda tapped her feather against her lips thoughtfully.

If only they would hurry up with Timmy's surgery and see what HE thought about all of-

BANG.

She started, heart pounding at the unexpected explosion of noise.

Dr. Rip Studwell hurried out of the still lightly swinging doors, face incredibly scarlet as he seized a nearby clipboard resting on a leather sofa.

Cosmo jumped up, face starkly alabaster. Wanda had to blink a couple of times to confirm that the pale fairy clasping his hands together was the same doofus who proposed to her on Prom Night with a chewed pen cap.

"Uh-Doctor Studwell?"

The fairy ignored him, still scanning the charts on his board with a small frown on his lips.

He turned to the three, scratching his head.

"Uh…before we proceed….mind signing a malpractice insurance sheet?"

Cosmo reached for the pen, but Wanda smacked his hand away.

"Hey! We're not signing anything! Not until-"

She turned a flushed, face towards the Doctor's, eyes wide and imploring.

"Where's Timmy?! Is the surgery over? Is he okay?"

The woman seized the man by the front of his collar, breathing ragged.

"Well?" she demanded, shaking him violently once again.

The man started, pulling away with a slightly disturbed look on his face.

"Hey….hey…not the protector. Chicks DIG the protector."

He shot a wink towards two very excited looking fairies watching him in the door glass. They giggled, and withdrew, hands clasped over their overly lip sticked mouths. The doctor turned towards the fairies again, blinking.

"Oh….Timmy Turner? THAT Timmy Turner?"

Cosmo nodded. The doctor yawned, blue eyes looking somewhat dull.

"He's dead," he said brightly.

Before the world could possibly shatter into a million pieces-before any and all sense could break from the world, the doctor continued, completely oblivious of the three.

"Dead tired of waiting for you before the second half of the surgery! Do you wish to see him or not? He'll be waking up soon-the morphine is beginning to dullen from his system."

Wanda just faintly nodded, heart beginning to resume it's beating once again.

Ohhhh yeah.

Studwell was next on her list.

Even as the followed the fairy through the highly polished door, Cosmo had to groan.

Geez.

How much could change in one morning?

Problem for them: A pretty much whopping deal.


	13. Eclipse

Eclipse

Everyone! So, so, SO sorry for my long absence!

School just started, I now have seven classes on my hands, not to mention, the homework that comes with it……L

My internet connection has been down, I'm constantly…..

…….

Sorry.

Let us move on, shall we?

_"Tmm…"_

_"Ee…Tmmmm…?"_

The vague whispering lightly caressed the drifting in and out comatose fog that was Timmy's mind.

Not the slightest hint of meaning came through the garbled noise-sort of like a tuneless hum.

No thought passed its oaken hinges-no legos, teletubbies, or ghastly woman in a green sweater currently crushing on a goody-two shoes named Tommy in Tibecuador….

_&^%YJHKLTY^$UIK????_

_Perambulating the future door,_

_Nothing is as once before-_

_&^%YJHKLTY^$UIK????_

Almost floating-almost drifting-but there wasn't anywhere to BE suspended in.

Not even the empty chambers of Cosmo's mind.

He'd been there once, just out curiosity.

And he hadn't been too surprised.

There was a bee named Cindy, a roach named Carl, a toy dog named Flipsy, some spider webs, elevator music, and a dancer named Nick.

Not too interesting.

But Nick DID throw some very nice parties….

Timmy shuddered, and his eyelids became slightly strained as his pale fingers scrabbled at the sheets, almost whimpering in discomfort.

Something was gently tugging at his body-but getting more and more persistent by the minute. The boy struggled, trying to jerk back as something insistently pulled at his small form, trying to force him forwards.

It was an odd sensation-and it what was once soft was getting and more and more forceful-like powerful jerks near his navel or so…

Almost like water dripping at his nonexistent vision, something began to caress his mind again-but it was softer, sweeter in its lisp and whisper.

_"Timmy…."_

The words were in perfect focus-and, from what the small boy could tell, neither masculine, nor feminine.

He had to bite back a groan in irritation as he felt something begin to rip at him, nipping almost like Doidel's annoying (and downright painful) teeth.

His was more towards the back-the back that he had tried to push himself back towards to.

There was another whisp, and now, the voice did not sound quite so friendly, nor so accommodating.

Timmy found himself agreeing with the voice, against his better instincts, as he allowed his body to be pushed forwards.

A ten year old could not bite back the whoosh that escaped from his lips as his lungs slowly exalted, tip of his head lolling to the side, as the frantic scrambling became ever more intense.

_"T…..Mmmmmm….eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…."_

It was like a badly tuned TV, flickering in and out of motion, with static interrupting most of the words into a garbled sense of complete gibberish.

Angry, exhausted, and now uncaring what lay before him, his drifting mind shut itself tightly as he gave one final push, and the darkness rolled over his now limp form, a whisper still in the distance.

"_Timmy…"_

It was warm.

Very warm, and very, very dark.

Where was he?

His back no longer ached-nor did his….well, everything, truth be told.

Eyes flickering in spite of himself-his lips opened in a silent scream.

Before his eyes snapped shut-back into the safesafesafesafe-ness this advent place had to offer-the world had exploded with light.

Light.

Even a small drip had become quite confusing after being swallowed by the depths of some dark ocean.

Or better yet, a sea.

He had seen, quite quickly in that small flash-light extraordinary, burning, convulsing-still and silent all the same as it rang-

_There._

That said it more then anything else did.

An object with a softness that surprised seized his hand, and felt it pressed to something even softer.

Why was he shaking?

No….HE wasn't shaking.

The object was.

Timmy attempted to part his eyelids once again, but the ridiculous things refused to budge.

Finally, tired, desperate, and exasperated, the boy gave up.

And finally allowed himself to eclipse over as he fainted.


	14. Caught in The Rain

Bonjour, everyone! My, it's been awhile….my apologies.

Caught in the Rain

_Quote:_

_"It's only the beginning now  
...a pathway yet unknown  
At times the sound of other steps  
...sometimes we walk alone_

_The best beginnings of our lives  
May sometimes end in sorrow  
But even on our darkest days  
The sun will shine tomorrow._

_So we must do our very best  
Whatever life may bring  
And look beyond the winter chill  
To smell the breath of spring._

The world outside was a sea of grey as tiny-tiny but thousands and thousands of their brethren sharply spiraling out of the indigo skyline, so

cool, so wet, and fresh to the touch as the tiny droplets slid down shivering flesh….

Cosmo knew this as he stood outside the dismal looking hospital, Dr. Studwell's-

Oops, Dr. RIPP Studwell's-Vegas stylized portrait-complete with flashing neon lights, was quite busy winking in spiraling shades of obnoxious

orange, hot pink, blue, etc, etc.

Looked kind of like that Holiday called Holi in….in…

China? Iraq? Ustinkistan?

Ah, well. Cosmo knew quite well about the holiday, seeing as he had spent in Wheretheheckistan for a good few years as a godfather to that

rather nasty little girl who had claimed relation to Vicky.

Thank heavens he didn't have to see her again. His guardianship had ended quite awhile ago at her hands, and he Wanda couldn't help but

throw quite a lovely party in the next godkid's locker-Denzel Crocker's-locker.

Ah, lockers. The only better place to have a party was quite simply the bathroom itself.

Cosmo gazed at the nearby plaster sign, along with a rather smaller set of letters that stated that the Patients were required to sign a waiver

before entering the building itself.

You had to know a great doctor when you saw one. Cosmo slowly drew his head away from the series of pathetically sparking lights, and drew

his head closer up to the rain.

He shuddered.

Even at the chorus of raindrops splashing down upon the Earth, Cosmo didn't feel much like singing-or swinging an umbrella about.

The world's wraiths hissed about the damp air, making you cough slightly as your head spun.

Luckily, Cosmo had no lungs in which to breathe said air. He gazed miserably about himself, eyes downcast and dispirited, the dancing warm

gusts in his eyes that spoke of quite cheerier things then his current predicament quite dullened, usual smile quite absent.

The world continued its shuddering, whooshing echo, as, everywhere, the tiny ripples-that of a small coin before expanding into a large oasis of

pattern and sound-continued from the dark pools forming around his own damp and soggy clothes, was a perpetual drip-drip-dripping sound.

In short, the world did not look fresh or green-even as the rain slowly began to peel away at the dirty snow still on the ground, hardened shell

beginning to slowly dissipate-like that of the white clouds before admitting submission and handing their shapeless bodies to the darkness.

If this got any more dramatic, Cosmo thought his nonexistent brains would explode.

But it was true; the world looked a damp, dark, soggy mess of a place, the slowly reviving grass looking yellowed and rather sickly, trees dark,

twisted, and with several broken branches lying around the base of the wettened roots.

Excellent.

The green haired fairy was quite content that, at least, the sky had some decency.

He probably would've poofed up some rain himself if the sun thought it alright to shine today.

But nevertheless, he couldn't stand outside anymore. Not when he knew what lay beneath the walls behind him, not when he hadn't brought

a case of his favorite metal bars he enjoyed licking in the midst of a storm.

Ah, well.

With a dejected sigh, Cosmo flicked his wand carelessly, and allowed his body to fade from the rains outside.

Even though it wasn't Wanda's cooking, he still felt more preferable to the idea of eating the plastic from a TV tray.

Good thing he couldn't starve to death, like Eddie, the non dead but still physically indisposed raccoon. He pushed aside the hospital food with

a small frown.

Or gerbil. Same difference to the fairy. As long as the little critters were on a stick, and had plenty of rabies.

You could never have too many rabies. That, or too many Blubber Nuggets.

They WERE chewy!

Cosmo glanced at the clock, knees still pulled to his chest as the dejected feeling continued to spread across his everywhere from where he lay

on the couch.

He could only have a quick glimpse at Timmy-how was that even fair?

And how was it fair that, in the other room-Timmy's lungs, hearts (other essentials with the word "uck" usually used as a postscript alongside)

were being modified at this very moment….

…and he couldn't do anything?

There were, the green haired fairy realized, many degrees of torment.

There was eating Wanda's cooking.

There was changing Poof's diaper.

There was finding a courtroom set up on the TV when all you were trying to do was find something serious and intellectual to watch.

Like anvils and dynamite.

And there was the painful truth of finding out you broke one of the Rules.

You became too attached to your godchild.

It was always a simple, exemplary stage-you made due with one little boy or girl until it was time to move on.

And there was watching your little one breathing through a tube, completely limp, skin stark white alabaster.

Oh yeah.

Cosmo bit his lip and drew his knees tighter to stop himself from making a noise.

There was a new winner.


	15. Heart!

Heart!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Quote:

"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done;  
it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known."  
- Charles Dickens, _A Tale of Two Cities

* * *

_

"Poof, Poof?"

Mama said nothing, but drew her arms tighter around the puffball. The fairy blinked, soft violet orbs turning into that of a bewildered haze.

Why were they here, in this big-rather-foul-smelling-boring place?

It almost reminded Poof of Timmy's school, where the fairy baby could be often found napping in Timmy's desk.

This led to some odd questions from Timmy's peers, inquiring why his desk often snored during mathematics, but to the ten year old's relief,

they did not press the issue.

Weirder things happened when you were friends with Timmy Turner.

Poof wriggled slightly, before poofing himself from Mama's arms with a wave of his rattle. He looked about himself, small smile fading as his

eyes failed to find WHAT he was looking for.

"Timmy? Timmy?"

Wanda raised her head, looking tired.

"Um...Timmy's gone right now, sweetie," she said wearily, drawing her hand over her eyes with a sigh.

"Er....bathroom."

Cosmo looked up with a small, somewhat forced smile.

"Yeah! For five hours! They must be having quite a shing-ding in-"

The fairy gulped as Wanda made the "I'm-about-ready-to-sock-you" face, and fell silent.

* * *

"Doctor-what's wrong?"

The nurse through him a skeptical look as the Doctor's eyes widened.

Dr. Rip Studwell only swallowed as he drew back, heart now pounding quite painfully in his throat.

"Um....I.....

Uh, oh."

This was bad.

This was really, really bad.

Oh, yeah. Wanda was going to kill him for this.

But nothing could be done now. Drawing a sheet over Timmy's trembling body, the good doctor slowly continued backing away before a

slight wave of his wand dissipated his body.

There was nothing to do now but wait.

And hope.


	16. Illumination

Love thy godfather, godmother, and godson

~*~*~

U-Um…..

H-Hello, everyone. It's b-been quite awhile. I sort of gave up on this tale after a few flames stated what a stupid and sentimental drab this tale

really was. (Already deleted them.) Gomen Nasai….aheh....heh....heh...heh....

Please....I want your honest opinion. Do I keep this tale alive? Or shall I let it go?

Regardless.....Be well, everyone.

_Quote:  
_

_"There are four questions of value in life... What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living for, and what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same. Only love."_

~*~*~

…….^&(G$(:!?J_ ^%

…………………_hand pressed against newly erected stone, marsh like ground beneath his feet-_

…………….(*UY*I&%444…….?????

…….

………………….. _An odd sense of weightlessness, yet again. He vaguely wondered why.  
_

_!&(&T$$U....?_

_In irregular data, random thoughts that possessed no meaning sped in the child's mind into a searing blur._

Every sense in the young boy's body was ablaze with cold, riveting flames of ice. His back....

It hurt.

He could tell that, at the very least. Though he wasn't quite sure whether or not the inane state was any better worse then this fiery-!

It hurt.

Why wouldn't it stop? Had the boy literally died, then and there-on the gurney?

Yes, he could remember that. Cool, glinting metal beneath his fingertips....!

_Something rather cool brushed against his forehead. The boy leaned into the touch with welcome, feeling something that felt remarkably like...._

_Appendages? Was someone touching him? It was nearly impossible to really tell anything in this spinning haze of darkdarkdark....._

_~*~_

_He had the unusual sense of a spinning haze of brown, and the flickering of something crackling…._

_He felt sick. More then rather nauceous, actuallly.....  
_

_.......  
_

_The sensation he was being slowly lowered to a dark floor. There was nausea brewing in a twisted stomach, and, if the boy had been eating anything _

_recently to this point, he thought he might've gladly vomited, world still haplessly spinning in on itself. _

_A vague lid of light in the distance tightly enclosing in on itself, like that of a cavern's opening. _

_Uncertainty and the burning, freezing intake of fear was applying itself heavily to the young boy as his stomach churned once again-and he shifted _

_away, eager to break into a more conscious state, mind still knowing nothing.

* * *

_

For what happened next, he had no warning but the coolness the tip of his spine.

A flash of flesh searing agony, raking its way up his spine-!

This time, Timmy really did scream-eyes breaking open for a flood of light-but there was someone whispering soothingly into his ears. Someone

else was clinging onto his hand, as yet another person was urgently speaking....

Why couldn't he see anything but light?

"Quick-the incision's been made. Wanda-the bandages.....and Cosmo, this IS not the Operation game-do _NOT_ put that there, or else you WILL do

more then make his nose light up and buzz!"

Timmy blinked....

....and blinked again. He could just vaguely see a hint of violet....

The poor boy felt ready to sob with joy at this welcoming point of sanity as he struggled to make it pass the overwhelming thickness that obscured

his vision so badly.....

....but a thought burst into his mind.

Why were they hurting him? What had he...?

Too late, Timmy felt something sink into his skin....and a gentle, fluttering numbness overtook his body, as he heard the faintest murmur of

approval and a few sighs from all around him.

"That's it. It's done. Second one in bloody history, it is. That idiot Studwell...."

Timmy thought he heard something....rather like a rabid bear. That was probably Wanda.

A snarl. Yep. Probably Wanda.

**_"Once I get my hands on that miserable piece of shriveled fairy flesh, I swear I'm gonna-_**

**_?!":PEI)(^)(%&(%(^+) take his rotten core, and (*UEIU&($&!!!!!!!!!!!!!! In a castle, far, far away, where no one can hear him _**

**_!!!!!!!!!hippotamus!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
_**

A pair of hands clapped over his ears hastily. Timmy still really could see nothing at all, but he guessed that was Cosmo.

But he'd heard enough.

Interesting.

He'd NEVER heard of any of THESE words before!

He was definitely looking these up when he got back ho-

Ho....?

The oddest sensation was interrupting his thoughts.

Someone was tilting his head back-and carefully parting his mouth to let something hot slide down his throat. It tasted faintly of almonds.

A wave of drowsiness was fighting wildly to capture the boy into midnight blue ways once again-but the torrents were, this time-not at all

menacing.

Someone carefully handed the boy to someone-and, for a strange, confusing moment, it seemed to the boy that his entire life had been a dream

moments earlier, and now was faintly stirring after newly being born with a mother and someplace rather warm.

But no....he could hear the words of the other fairy.

"Jus' make sure he gets some rest. And you and little bubbele should do the same."

Bubbele? Timmy frowned as his face was leaned against a shoulder.

Only one person addressed him and Poof as_ "bubbeles..."_

He froze.

No way.

_No, no way-!_

"Hey! What about me? I've been up for almost two days straight!"

Yep. Cosmo was whining. Timmy managed a faint smile as Big Daddy cursed, and seized him by the tie.

He frowned though, moments later.

Since when did a Garbage King know anything about surgery? And why would.....

.....another thought broke into Timmy's head.

Ewww! The _Garbage King _had-?!

Timmy prayed he had washed his hands. But there was no time to dwell on that now-

"Oooh? Ya want rest? Well, pallie-if ya REALLY need it, you can end up _sleepin'_ with the fishes!"

"Really? Cool-I love waterbeds!"

Yep.

That was the idiot Timmy knew and loved.

Something round and soft was being settled beside the ten year old. His face scrunched up in confusion.

Wanda voiced Timmy's thoughts:

"Um...Big Daddy? Why'd you give _Poof_ a sedative?"

A chuckle.

"Hey-I love the kid-and I'd really not have him destroy Tokyo Bay again because the little guy didn't get a decent nap with Mr. Neigh-neigh."

Silence. Then, a swooping gesture. Timmy could guess, at the very least, that Big Daddy had seized the throw pillow of death back.

"O-On second thought, t-the kids don't need no girly influence.....they get enough of that from that Dad. I-I'll just get rid of this, huh?"

Oh, yeah.

The throw pillow would be on Big Daddy's bed before long.

~*~*~*~*~

Wanda reluctantly pushed Timmy and Poof's limp bodies into Cosmo's arms. Although he was still fighting viciously to stay conscious, his eyelids

continued to droop....and, from what he could feel from Poof's steady heartbeat and gentle breathing-the other fairy had dropped rock bottom by

this point.

And that fact, along with Cosmo's own darn heartbeat was making a gentle lub-dub in terms of beat....the boy was now feeling absolutely

catatonic.

He could hear faint sobs from behind him-and that puzzled him all the more.

"B-B-Big Daddy....I-I...."

Wait. This wasn't right.

Why was Wanda crying?

Wait a moment....

A starkly edged burn had made its way to Timmy's closed eyes.

Why was he crying?

~*~*~*~

"T-Thank y-you....for Timmy's l-...."

Breathing ragged, Timmy's own heart beginning to pound-with astonishment.

Wanda was _sobbing. _

Over him! Since when had anyone cried over him before?

The gentle sound of awkward patting....and then Big Daddy's voice boomed once again.

"There, there, Daddy's little sweetie....there, there, now.....gotta look after my grandkid, huh?" He snorted.

_Wait...didn't he mean grand "god" kid?_

"Not like Captain Dunderhead can do such a bang up job."

"Hey! I can make things bang too, ya know! I sank Atlantis-"

"...nine times. yeah, yeah, yeah." The man sounded impatient again as he drew a gloved hand below Wanda's leaking orbs.

"I like the kid-he's got style. Now," (His tone was strictly businesslike now) "Mutton chops says the ok is on to use magic for his recovery twenty

four hours after surgery. That should give you guys enough time to get some proper shut-eye."

"O-Oh, b-but Big Daddy-I can't-"

"Whooaaa!"

Timmy felt like he could almost picture the man's scarred scowl again. His tone became distinctly bossy.

"Now, listen here-missy-you and the idiot you married are gettin' some sleep. NOW. And you," he barked, turning a glower over to Cosmo, who

had been humming a taco commercial jingle under his breath-

"You let anything happen to my two little godkids or my widdle girl-and I swear, I'll break your jaw in so many times, it'll be _dislocated from here to_

_Jersey!_"

"Jersey? You're finally letting me in the family extension in Jersey? Oh, Big-Daddy-in-Law-"

The green haired fairy seized the snarling man into a hug.

"I just _knew_ you'd come aro-aaghhh!"

Before thrusting Poof and Timmy away, well.....

If Timmy had to guess right, Big Daddy had just dropped a sheik ton of trash directly on his godfather's head....

...again. But that did hope for their relationship-Timmy was just surprised the man hadn't done it by now.

* * *

"Now....this is gonna sting a bit-"

"Ow!"

"OW! You said it would only hurt a little bit!"

The man sneered as he wearily drew away his medical supplies into a small bag.

"Yeah, well-I lied. I tend to do that in...oh, you know...personal ads, business negotiations....the Fairy FBI-but ya didn't hear it from me."

A flash of light was dimly beginning to make its way through the haze....!

"Now....you take care now, got it?"

"Y-Yeah." Wanda's voice was slurred. Ah....was that what those "Ows" had meant?

"Tell the kid to take two aspirins-and call me in the mornin.' SOONER, if this nincompoop can't get his can moving once you get settled."

"H-Hey!"

The man heaved his shoulders with a sigh.

"Night-night....and adios."

~*~*~*~

And a shower of sparks overtook their bodies.

* * *

_It was dark._

_It was dark, warm, quiet, and...._

_No! He WAS going to win this battle! Small boy metabolism be...._

_Something soft from beneath him. _

_Okay, even so...._

_Poof was being tucked beside him...._

_Still holding on...._

_Cosmo let out a groan-then plunked onto the edge of....whatever they were lying on....._

_Wanda's fingers began combing through Timmy's hair before he could make another attempt to say something._

_Crud. He was losing rather fast to-!_

_Cosmo's snores were nearby. Oddly, instead of sounding like trucks downshifting on the highway as usual...they were almost rather soothing._

_A cool, thick comforter being drawn over the nearly tranquilized four....Poof's breathing roughly brushing against his face, Wanda's now rather limp _

_brushing at his face....!_

_It was too much. Exhausted, weary, and content, even in his confusion from the day's bizarre events, Timmy allowed himself to give up the ghost, and_

_his head tilted slightly on the pillow as he fainted, Wanda following soon after._

_~*~*~*~_

_Whew! I really, really hope you liked this....*blushes.*_

_Please....be well, everyone.  
_

* * *


	17. Odd Occurrences

Love thy Godmother, Godfather, and Godson

* * *

~*~*~*~*~

Odd Occurrences

_Hallo, everyone! ^^ I can't always promise a daily update….but I promise not to pull any three and a half month long Houdinis on you again. ^^_

_I hope you like this newest segment-please tell me if you do! (Goes red.)_

_Quote: _

_"Just remember, the same as a spectacular Vogue magazine, remember that no matter how close you follow the jumps: Continued on page whatever. No matter how careful you are, there's going to be the sense you missed something, the collapsed feeling under your skin that you didn't experience it all. There's that fallen heart feeling that you rushed right through the moments where you should've been paying attention. Well, get used to that feeling. That's how your whole life will feel some day. This is all practice. None of this matters. We're just warming up."_

Anyhoo, please take care, everyone.

~*~*~*~*~

* * *

_…….it was quieter then usual. _

_The boy wasn't exactly sure why, seeing as the old house often creaked as it settled, wind blowing noisily at the old shutters, the sounds of the badgers _

_outside partying, mainly because Dad was still far too intent on his hopes of digging to an underground city of the mole people-or the center of the Earth, _

_whichever came first- to really set a trap for them…._

_That, and the fact that he'd usually send the little buggars off to Dinkleberg's trash can after convincing them that they did indeed, have much fancier _

_delicacies in their trash then the Turners…such as that old tuna pate' that Mrs. Dinkleberg had thrown out last Wednesday._

_Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that Mrs. Turner's food generally caused the surrounding wildlife to flee into the road-occasionally in front of _

_startled drivers- the grass to blacken, and children to call for holy water before running away._

_Yeah._

_Maybe it had something to do with that. Timmy snuggled into his pillows….which vaguely felt a little larger to him then usual. Maybe Wanda had fluffed it _

_last night. The thought was nice._

_It was dark._

_He wondered if it was morning or night. Either way, although the boy loathed the thought of waking up late on a weekday (it was just a little hard to care _

_on a weekday on which he actually had school) but his weariness was not giving him any choice._

_Ever fiber of his body-down to the last cell- was aching slightly, as if he'd spent the day beforehand lifting weights…._

_This was rather how he'd felt after his final go-round with the Darkness. Cosmo had poofed up some tea in a fit of actual sense-(If you'll forgive me for _

_saying so, these weren't exactly common) and, while it had tasted more then a little revolting, it had done the trick for his burning joints, surprisingly _

_enough. Sometimes, you felt just a bit weary after a day of trying to prevent a robotic madman from blowing up the world._

_If only just a bit._

_Evidently, Cosmo's father had brought it from __Ireland__ after his brief run as a Leprechaun…which hadn't worked out so hot, seeing as he'd traded all the _

_gold for chocolate gilt. _

_But never mind that now…..Timmy's thoughts drifted elsewhere. _

_As the earlier spasm began to lessen its painful hold, the boy snuggled deeper into the sweet warmth of the comforters...._

_It was a Sunday-which meant church, if the Turners remembered to take Timmy with them. Otherwise, Wanda would fussily decide what to wear-the _

_anointed task took about an hour or so-and then ready the gallows._

_The gallows, were quite simply, the ties for Poof and Timmy. Lucky Cosmo always wore one-so he was well used to it. _

_After service, at least there was Sunday brunch-which was always better then breakfast or lunch. You never knew why, exactly._

_Saturdays were fairly extreme days. Sundays were fairly relaxing days. _

_So…where was Wanda waking him up for it? Timmy frowned slightly in the shadows, brow creasing._

_Something felt…wrong. He winced again as he attempted to move. _

**_Every muscle and joint was just so stiff…..! _**

_But soon, the abnormally would go. Any moment, the alarm would go off. _

_And Timmy had the full intention of yanking its cord directly out of the socket, and blearily wishing it to Ustinkistan. _

_But silence. Had they switched the hours? Was it Daylight Savings Time Change already?_

_….but somehow, that didn't seem quite right. Timmy fought against his flickering eyelids-and managed to push the tide of his battle._

_Mmmm…..?_

Timmy turned slightly from where he lay, wincing as a streak of fire raced up his back. Gritting his teeth, he dimly let the features of this room pass

into acknowledgment, blinking in puzzlement.

An enormous bed. Not at all like his own. This one made enough room for a good five men to lie across....sideways with plenty of room left over!

Now beginning to feel a little panicky, Timmy glanced around, frantic heart rate slowing slightly as a sigh of ease escaped him.

There was Poof, cuddled into the nearby pillows, breathing deep and untroubled.

He glanced around.

The walls were white. The floor was cream. And the pretty chandelier that hung at the center of the large walls was cut in about a hundred faucets

of crystal- was ivory shadeded.

In short, just looking about this place kind of made you dizzy. He hated to think what this place was like in the light....!

But the room was....vaguely familiar. The boy managed another puzzled frown as he burrowed his brow in concentration.

Ah.

He recognized this place....this was the _White Room! _Not very original naming....but it was a small, out of the way chamber that served as the six

thousandth and ninth spare guest bedroom in Cosmo and Wanda's castle.

Speaking of whom.....

Wanda was curled beside him, murmuring in her sleep.

And Cosmo was lying at the edge of the bed like a cat, occasionally growling, or kicking at the air absentmindedly.

Timmy managed a small smile.

Why had the guys brought him here? He didn't strictly mind, but what had been wrong with his own bed?

Whatever. The boy wearily made his way down from the bed, groaning as he clasped a trembling hand to his head.

That movement had been a mistake. Timmy felt kind of sick at this point.

~*~*~*~*~

~*~*~*~

He gave himself an odd look in the mirror, his own rather pale complexion staring back.

Where...was his shirt? Instead, there were firm, white bandages wrapped snugly around the upper part of his torso and shoulder, drawing in to

wrap around his small stomach-which, for some reason, looked like it had really shrunk considerably-and, a carefully made string of knots to the

opposite hip.

What had...happened?

The boy's fingertips drew tremblingly up his bare flesh....

....and then, he froze, as a siege of memories overtook him.

* * *

_"I KNOW that one won't be affected. The whole true yadda yadda yadda. I get it, I get it. After the third month, THEY'LL deal with it."_

_Timmy stared desperately at the muscle bound fairy, who would not meet his eyes as he withdrew, and poofed himself back on the velvet lined seats._

_Who or what was "that one?"_

_The judge had resumed his irritated scowl as he yanked his head back around to face the expectant court.  
_

_"Mr. and Mrs. Turner-AS I WAS SAYING-"_

There was a pause, in which the Judge's sharp eyes scanned the perimeter, to be certain he would not be interrupted yet again.

_"-you have been found guilty of all present charges. How do y-oh." The judge scratched his head, looking somewhat awkward.  
_

_Right, right, onto the good stuff…_

*

_"-This day, March sixteenth, may the court and all those in attendance record that you have been charged with obvious disregard of Fairy Law-"_

_Timmy's Dad scowled.  
_

_"People like you are in GOVERNMENT?! I demand representation, here! I didn't even get a lawy-"_

_The judge simply plowed on in his sentence, eyes burning._

_"....for the sake of Timothy Tiberious Turner."_

_The judge glanced at his notes and frowned._

_"Tiberious? And he laughs at Gregory…"_

* *

_Timmy had swallowed, and clung to Poof, resisting the urge to suck his thumb with difficulty. He closed his eyes, but the dreaded words still came-_

_"-Mr. and Mrs. Turner?"_

_A deathly silence.  
_

_"You are stripped of any parental laws and rights of him, as for this day on, and are awarded to Godparents in question: Mrs. Wanda and Cosmo _

_Fairywinkle Cosma, for this day and forever on as a fairy."_

_Thwack!_

_The hammer came crashing down._

* * *

They had done it.

They had claimed that Timmy's Mom and Dad no longer had any....

Blank.

The boy found himself blankly staring at his knees as he sank to them, body screaming in protest.

Then, the siege of tears began.

~*~*~*~

Okay.

Timmy rubbed at brilliantly pink eyes, sighing.

Okay.

Just a minute to gather his thoughts...!

And confirm one thing:

_That had been the most miserable birthday of his existence. _

* * *

The next time he saw Jordan, he was wishing the fairy into a shark infested lagoon....

...if Wanda hadn't done so already. Managing a small sigh, he attempted to clear his head with the information he DID have.

Geez.

The court-the entire Fairy World court-had gone seriously overboard this time. Maybe there was still a chance to repeal this case!

So what if Mom and Dad had forgotten his birthday.....

....again. They were still HIS parents!

So what if Cosmo and Wanda WERE better caretakers. That still didn't give them the right to DO anything like THIS! It wasn't in Da Rules!

.....was it? The boy didn't know.

So what if it had been them

And yet......

Timmy dug at his eyes again, managing a shuddering groan as he sank

The boy, regardless, continued to frantically unravel the many bandages that had been carefully caressing the sorer points of the flesh that still,

occasionally, roared in discomfort.

But one by one, the unwrapped bandages slid past his stomach-past to his knees-and to the floor.

Finally, as Wanda gasped, and he heard a small thunk of the floor-probably Cosmo fainting, Timmy opened his eyes.

~*~*~*~

There are many, many words to describe what the stunned ten year old was thinking as he slowly turned around to get a better look in the mirror.

But sometimes, words don't really do it justice.

So, I will simply hope you will oblige with these:

_Ho, snap._

* * *

Translucent wings were fastened to the boy's spine-twinkling, and rather like soap bubbles in the blur of whirling color that danced along

rice-paper-like edged wings, so great was the fragility....

Timmy pressed two trembling hands near his heart, vaguely wondering if the appendage would continue to beat underneath his now slightly pale

hands....

To his surprise-albeit much slower then that of a conventional human heartbeat-and, to his great relief, a small thudding sound-like that of a

hummingbird's wingspan- answered him.

~*~*~

He now possessed a slightly glittery sheen to himself.

The thought of him ever looking handsome was, well....

He blushed, and looked down, biting his lip as his fingers traveled down the softer flesh of his stomach.

The boy's eyes widened.

And....a small, star shaped scar near his navel-identical to that of Cosmo and anti-Cosmo's scars....

**He'd had a figiglee gland transplant. **

* * *

Near the now only slightly reddened skin-which looked rather like a few Indian burns, near the now translucent patches of his own flesh….

Where magic had once transfigured his back, surgery had done it again.

Cosmo cleared his throat as the boy turned around again, lost for words.

"Awkward. But I'm Cosmo!"

"And I'm Wanda!"

"And we're.....your....fairly new....parents, Timmy."

* * *


	18. Difficult Acceptance: Timmy's Lament

Love thy Godmother, Godfather, and Godson

Difficult Acceptance: Timmy's Lament

~*~

Hallo, everyone! (You know, I always say "Hallo" instead of just "Hello." Wish I knew why…..

Still, am hoping you are well. Forgive me for pulling a Houdini for such a long time….

I had an offer for a beta reader! ^^ Sadly, this chapter cannot be beta-ed, under time constraints…:(

But I hope to offer you better quality as such later.

My guardians want straight As by the end of this year….and that isn't going so hot, truth be painfully

told. D: Ah, well. The main point of this…I'm not really supposed to be on Fanfiction at all. They'd frown

if they knew I was still doing it…..

….but as long as I manage to do my work-and go to school early and skip lunch, well….what fun is life

Without the occasional risk? ^^ And I loathe leaving things unfinished.

Que Sera, Sera. What will be, will be. Just try to slip in more than a little work in it, too.

I adore reviews….reviews make me happy. ^^ I really hope you like this new segment.

Still-no more time for my hapless ramblings. Love you guys.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Quote:

_"Yes, I now feel that it was then on that evening of **sweet dreams**- that the very first dawn of human love burst upon the icy night of my spirit. Since that period I have never seen nor heard your name without a shiver half of delight, half of anxiety."

* * *

_

"Uh…..Timmy? Sweetie?"

Wanda's pink orbs were widened with concern as she hesitantly floated to the boy's side.

"I-I know this is a lot for you to take in….but try to keep it easy. Big Daddy said-"

Big Daddy. Wanda's father.

_Father._

Enormous blue eyes took in Cosmo's puzzled green orbs.

For a moment, Timmy found himself lost for words in at entiety.

No…..

Wincing as he turned his neck slightly, his shoulder muscles screaming in wild protest, the boy once again turned to stare at the transparent wings that were firmly rooted-like a plant in his mother's garden, only his wings were not cracked and decaying….

No……

Timmy's already slightly irregular breathing was beginning to turn into ragged pantings as his wandering fingertips found an extremely sore spot on his stomach-perhaps to the left or so of his navel. Flinching again from the fiery patch of flesh, where stitches were still neatly underlying the star shaped scar and the inflamed skin…..

It didn't take long for the boy to realize.

A figiglee…..gland….was now in…in his body. A crown on his head.

He was starting to get more then lightheaded at this point. He staggered a step or two, vision becoming quite askew and unfocused-like when he had eaten one of those apple tarts Mom had made that made him wish for a stomach pump…..

"SWEETIE!"

When was the last time Mom had called him that? She rarely had ever done. Ever.

But, then again, after he was five years old-that was all he could ever learn to expect from his parents. A goodnight and goodbye, and then-if he were lucky-Vicky in a hockey mask, equipped with chainsaw.

Or that time when she had used rabid barracudas on him instead of coyotes. He had to remark that she must have been in an inordinate good mood that day.

Still, it had been Wanda who transfigured Vicky's head into that of a goldfish's.

And Cosmo who had begun the Disco, mechanical bull riding party…..

….again.

Was that one of the reasons that Jorgan had brought this on?

Not noticing the thin trace of red from the now irritated set of wings, the boy's knees buckled, and fell to the ground.

~*~*~*~*~*~

What was wrong with him?

Wouldn't he have killed to have his godfamily with him forever?

But even as Poof drew him an uncertain glance, Wanda shaking him frantically, her voice now a hollow echo in his mind….

_"Oh, very well-this non-believe it or not-stupid case for guardianship is between the Turners and Puny-"_

_"JORGAN!"_

_"Keep your hairnet on, your most honored fairyship."_

_As the judge's face became somewhat concerned, he quickly glanced into a mirror Vandissimo had given him on his birthday._

_"This case is for permanent custodial guardianship of Timothyy Turner. If the birth parents prove to be better guardians then the fairies, they_

_shall be granted it, and all rights reserved until Turner reaches the legal age of eighteen._

_If not...." Jorgan reached for his eyeglasses, and perused his copy of Da Rules._

_"Parental Guardianship will be permanently handed over to God parent or parents in question. In Turner's case, his fairy family."_

_Timmy staggered, face contorting into shock. Jorgan continued nevertheless._

_"Forever and ever. Oh......and did I mention all associates of said person-meaning Turner-forget he ever existed?"_

_"Oh......and did I mention all associates of said person-meaning Turner-forget he ever existed?"_

Timmy's eyes widened, and his breathing halted in a sharp intake.

….no.

Chester. AJ. Sanjay. Elmer……

……….Mom and Dad…..Trixie-EVERYONE in Dimmsdale….

……had forgotten about him, if the court's ruling was correct.

Because, if he WAS a fairy….a creature not MEANT to actually exist-and to hide forever on Earth…..

No one would remember Timmy Turner anymore. Because, quite blankly-the boy was nothing short of dead on Earth.

To the point of being nonexistent in the first place.

There would be no one waiting for him at home this time. Not even Vicky.

At that last thought, Timmy managed a hysterical giggle, much to the pink haired fairy's-who was still holding him-astonishment.

But-aside from Vicky-had anyone but Cosmo, Wanda, and Poof been there to greet him in the first place?

The ten year old managed a bitter snicker.

And then, abruptly fainted.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Ack.

That must be the alarm clock. What ELSE could be the reason for all that racket?

The boy had rolled slightly in his slumber, mumbling a bit.

_…….mmrrrrmmmthhhh….?_

"QUICK!"

Timmy started in surprise from underneath the comforters. What was Cosmo doing up so ear…..?

"WHAT'S THE NUMBER FOR 9-1-1?!"

A groan of irritation-and a resounding slap, as well as an "_Ow!" _from Cosmo. Nice contact on that one.

With a weary sigh, Timmy hoisted himself up on his elbows, watching two fairies inordinately yelling at one another with slight disinterest.

….and then, as he moved, the wings on his back throbbed indiscriminately. Flinching slightly, the boy turned slightly to have a questing hand move slowly towards them again.

But a cool hand secured Timmy's in her own. The boy started, used the other hand to rub at slightly blurry eyes, and a pair of pink orbs became ever more clear in the boy's direct line of focus.

"Timmy! Hon-you okay? You passed out-a good fifteen minutes ago!"

Wanda's voice was breathless, but now, as the boy began to squint at her uncertainly, eased somewhat in her uneven breathing.

"T-Timmy…..are you sure you're awake?"

Unless this was a (horrible?) dream the boy kept NOT waking up from….he didn't know.

Wanda's voice came back to him once again, heavily concerned tone moving Timmy's hand away from his back.

"Don't touch…"

The blurry face was resolving itself into the familiar features of his fairy godmother, though they were almost unfamiliar now, so strangely contorted with worry was her expression.

Cosmo drifted over, looking immensely relieved.

"Cool! Timmy woke up already! I guess this means you CAN teach an old dog new tricks-you just can't teach Blonda how to act!"

~*~*~*~*~

Picking up the small, violet orbed cream puff that still perched beside him, Timmy took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled.

"Okay."

Timmy's voice had calmed itself slightly. He closed his eyes. Focus. Focus was good.

"They…made me into a fairy. Without ASKING me about it."

Cosmo bit his lip.

"Uh….pretty much, yeah. But it wasn't like that plastic surgery operation where I-"

The boy chose to ignore this for the moment.

"I'm a kid….forever."

Wanda seized his shoulders again, mindful of the more sensitive patches of skin.

"Hon…we tried to stop them. Honestly, we did….but, by the time we COULD do anything about it….it was too late."

The female fairy sounded to be on the verge of tears. The child awkwardly patted her on her back, now looking at a loss for anything to say as she drew her face into her hands.

Uncertain, Timmy drew back, staring at his hands.

He was….a fairy. Well, he WOULD be….soon enough, once another twenty four hours went by. Right now, he was a creature torn in between. If not a mutant (which really was a bit of a shame, seeing as he felt that might've been kinda cool) he was….a hybrid.

And….a Fairywinkle, now. He would never grow up.

….or, according to Cosmo, hit a midlife crisis for another good thousand or so years.

….which meant the adult Timmy would never be brought into existence….mainly, because-for all intents and purposes….the boy was never born in the first place.

Breathing and heart rate beginning to rapidly climb once again, the boy forced himself to look at the small portrait beside the bed that Wanda had brought along into the room-and put aside on a small table.

The portrait of Mom and Dad.

Timmy ripped his gaze away.

Okay….bad idea. When he had wanted to be with his godfamily forever….he didn't mean he wanted to get rid of his OTHER parents!

While Cosmo, sensing the mood had gone darker on one of his (very) rare flashes of insight, and begun to juggle rabid cats.

….and then was soon engulfed in a whirlwind of snarling felines.

While Poof-and Wanda, after awhile-watched with interest, the boy looked at his pale, trembling, and sweaty palms again from where he lay.

Positives. There had to be positives. If there was no using magic to get out of this-if the decision was absolutely final….

….okay. Number one: His godfamily. That was definitely a good place to start.

Two…..he'd never have to grow up….or, at least, not for quite awhile. He could still get away with reading comics at two hundred and forty six!

Three….a magic wand…wings of his own…pretty hard to beat that.

Four….no more school.

And no more Crocker.

Timmy's eyes widened.

No more Crocker. No more Francis. No more Vicky, No more Dark Laser……

As the cats began to tear around the screaming, green haired fairy, Timmy opened his eyes once again.

But what about…Mom and Dad? Timmy clutched at his stomach, feeling slightly sick.

And then, his eyes had widened….

…..only to narrow, moments later.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"_So, anyhoo-Timmy's mom and old man-"_

_Mr. Turner jumped up, face livid._

_"HEY! This is the rudest, non existent, dream I've ever had! I'm HIP!"_

_Timmy's mother rolled her eyes as Mr. Turner started._

_"OW! My BACK!"_

_Tamara Turner inched her violet chair away, looking repulsed._

_"Ewwww......you're not hip-you're old!"_

_Gary breathed in, looking extremely annoyed as Jorgan turned back to face him._

_----_

_"Long story short-while Vicky was watching The Lord of The Onion Rings-wicked cool special effects, I might add-Timmy invented me."_

_The boy managed a somewhat wistful sigh._

_"Ah.....those were the days. I remember being on the seesaw with Timmy. Watching the incredibly NOT awesomesauce ToddlerTubbers on the_

_picture box-and those long, eventful sessions we had at the psychologist's…."_

_"Sweet! I'm on TV! Mind switching it to the NBA reruns? I kinda wanted to see Dad against the Pi-"_

_"__CHESTER__ MCBADBAT! One of the only ones of Timmy's puny peers that actually seems to HAVE a last name-"_

_"Hey!" said Elmer indignantly. "I have a last name, too! It's-"_

_But Jorgan plowed on._

_"Do you want to try my souffle? I made it with buttercream icing baked in!"_

_Chester shrugged, and took a bit, chewing appreciatively._

_"Not bad....not bad......." he mused._

_"But do you have a dumpster out back I could root through?"_

_The Judge sighed._

_"Just answer the questions, son. Now, what we all need to know-" He held up a photo of Vicky._

_The flowers in a nearby vase wilted. Timmy shuddered._

_"What this picture say to you?"_

_Chester gulped, fidgeting in his seat, hands clasped together._

_"Uh....bad things. Reeeeeally, really, bad things. Things my Dad says I'm not supposed to repeat."_

_Then, his eyes filled with tears as he slammed his head against his folded elbows, slamming his fist against the wood._

_"MAKE THE BAD THINGS GO AWAY! I'll be good, Mommy-I promise!"_

_"So....Elmer.....who showed up at Parent Teacher Night for Timothy Turner?"_

_The boy pointed at the two fairies in the opposite box._

_"They did."_

_The Judge nodded again._

_"And...at your last bake sale-"_

_Elmer's eyes widened in horror as the glass in his spectacles shattered._

_"!"_

_The boy's scream echoed with many of the children in the audience._

_The Judge started, obviously not expecting a violently shaking Elmer to duck under the witness bench, hands over his head._

_"What in tarnation-?!"_

_The boy moaned as Jorgan roughly pulled him out and jerked him back on the chair, looking nauceous._

_"Mrs. Turner's....lemon.....l-lemon squares..."_

_The boy buried his face in his hands._

_"It was as if someone stabbed me in the neck......and....and...."_

_Jorgan handed the boy a tissue, which he blew into gratefully._

_"Everything I eat STILL kinda tastes a little lemony."_

~*~*~*~*~

_"Hey, look! Super baby bounces! Baby Timmy never bounced!"_

_"I'd be CRUSHED if I had a son!"_

_"Today? What's today? Ah! Now I remember! It's been exactly twenty-three years since our NINTH DATE!"_

_That had been all it had ever been, right? No….that day was nothing important._

_….like their son's birthday._

Timmy's saddened eyes turned to that of a betrayed scowl.

Who had remembered to set up his birthday party?

Cosmo. Wanda. Poof.

Who had gotten him…gifts for the party?

Ditto Cosmo. Wanda. Poof.

Timmy's hands drew into tiny fists.

Who had even remembered it was his birthday?

…..see above answer.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They'd spent his college money on motorcycles.

They let an abusive sixteen year old babysit him, time and time again.

They went on vacation without him. That alone was not so bad-but it was now an extremely frequent thing.

And they forgot his birthday.

Again.

And now, because of it, he'd had to spend his birthday in an agonizing medium that changed his SPECIES.

And he would never, ever, see them again.

Cerulean eyes beginning to pool up with tears, Timmy took the small picture frame into his hands.

SMASH!

Cosmo started slightly at the noise, disheveled, and soaked….seeing as he had thought it a good idea to dump excessive amounts of water on the already enraged cats to prevent them from tearing his clothes (anymore then they had already done) into ribbons….

….and turned around.

Timmy had thrown the picture at the opposite wall, messier then normal chestnut bangs hiding his expression. With a tingling of glass and broken frame, the ruined picture had fallen, the two occupants of the photo still smiling blankly.

Poof inched closer to the ten year old, and selected a word from his very limited vocabulary.

"Tim-my?"

At the sound of his name, Timmy managed a small smile, and drew in the small puffball for a hug.

Then, his expression broke, and he was left crying harder then he had done for a long, long time.


	19. A mother's musings

Love thy Godmother, Godfather, and Godson

A mother's musings

* * *

Yes, this segment is ALL Wanda's POV. Basically, we're about to learn what's going to go down in this tale.

BTW....For my American readers, have a Happy Thanksgiving!

Ah, but never mind that. Things will get cheerier, I promise.

Hmmm....I was going over the old poll I placed on my profile on what stories I should write about the most....it was kind of close-but Danny/Vlad

(Danny Phantom, for those of you not familiar with Butch Hartman's other works...) Father son bonding fictions won. ^^ Wishology or cute FOP

came in second, TMNT in third, and all others in fourth.

Good to know-but not good enough. If you don't mind me asking, FOP fans-about this fiction....I'm a little lost, at this time, on where the plot's

going to take me.

Many of you have suggested a romance with the shippings of TrixiexTimmy or TootiexTimmy. I'm not very good with writing romance....but it

COULD happen, I guess. I suppose a romance wouldn't hurt....it depends on how the tale plays out. Maybe I should create an OC for Timmy....

I'm not a big fan of TrixiexTimmy. She HAS displayed feelings of impression towards our favorite buck-toothed assailant-but there's ALWAYS a

string attached with her-and she's far too afraid to give up her popularity for Timmy's sake.

Hmm. Maybe I could work that to my advantage.....

Tootie, on the other hand, is crazy about Timmy. A little unhealthy crazy-_have you seen her room?_-but she's always ready to take the extra step

for her little dreamboat. *Laughs.* I guess these two leave a lot of intrigue for the twins, Tammy and Tommy. Tommy has black hair....but that

could be Trixie OR Tootie, if you look hard enough. Tammy dresses like Trixie...but has glasses like Tootie....

I DO want to know what you guys think-as well as d'you believe that Timmy should stay with his godfamily? A whopping number of you are going

to say, "Heck, yes...^^" but I want everyone's opinion on source. Drop me a note if you're puzzled about something, okay?

Well....enough of the "Master of the Darkness" (Thanks, trooper ^^) ranting. Let's carry on, shall we?

* * *

Quote:

_"It was not death, for I stood up,  
And all the dead lie down;  
It was not night, for all the bells  
Put out their tongues, for noon._

_It was not frost, for on my flesh  
I felt siroccos crawl,--  
Nor fire, for just my marble feet  
Could keep a chancel cool.

* * *

_

~*~*~

Immortality.

The ability to grant wishes to miserable children across the globe.

Flying.

These are blessings-many blessings-some would gladly give their hearts to receive as their own.

Just as in the case of _Kissy Kissy Goo Goo-_a wonderful story I often find Cosmo...or Timmy, although he does claim he's not reading...merely

_skimming-_perusing upside down, the heroine wonders if that is indeed the price for forever-one heart.

_But what would you rather have? A warm hundred years...or cold eternity?_

*~*

I can't hear my godson's heartbeat anymore. It's dead to my ears.

Wings have found their way to his back-a job accomplished with the help of Dr. Studwell....or, Dr. "I'm soon to be brutally attacked by the British

Mafia and various thug members as soon as a pink haired fairy hunts me down and slaughters me multiple times" Ripp Studwell....and Big Daddy.

Nothing else could have made me more relieved when BD agreed to end the surgery....though he did offer to rip off Cosmo's wings for a

transmute. Not much changes with Big Daddy.

Never does, never will. That's a quality anyone can learn to love about him once he learns to stop glaring you down in a dark alley.

He's hard to win over-save, of course-you offer him a pink plush throw pillow named Mr. Neigh-Neigh....but he always did admire Timmy's spunk.

Just another reason why BD expresses utmost respect and affection by sending grenade launchers and heat seeking missiles to Timmy-and,

Poof as well, nowadays-every Christmas. I don''t even wanna TALK about the artifacts of mass destruction I had to file away after Hanukkah.

~*~*~*

BD saved his....grandson.

Grandson.....I shake my head ever so slightly, a small frown on my face.

I can't really wrap my mind properly around the concept-which is why I desperately needed to take a short flight to clear my head-if only for a

little bit-around the castle halls.

Still vaguely wandering around the grand marble tiles, I turn to look at the nearby chandelier, still pondering lightly.

BD DOES have a soft place in his heart for Timmy and Poof. Idiot though he believes my husband to be...who isn't an idiot so much as a knuckle

head mcspazitron.....he DID care enough to drop by last Christmas-which he hasn't done for years.

....though he left Cosmo sixteen metric tons of trash-which, is-after all, quite an improvement from the twenty-three tons he dumped on him last

Kwanzaa-he must be moving from "loathe" to a mere "Despise" on the hatred scale for his son-in-law. How marvelous.

There's still hope...we might someday actually get to "Strongly dislike!"

* * *

Timmy was a fairy, now. Immortal. And...according to council....

MY child. Cosmo's, too.

I never have to say goodbye to him. But, for the adult Timmy I met only briefly....

...he wouldn't...exist, anymore.

And no magic was going to change that.

Ever.

At least.....no magic that I knew of. I went through Da Rules six or seven times....flipping through old articles....segments...statements.....

Nothing. Nothing at all.

I groaned, pinched the bridge of my nose with my forefingers, and poofed to one of the four hundred and sixty three kitchens we had in our

estate.

I needed chocolate therapy. Stat.

* * *

Crunching on a chocolate bar Mark and his friends had deemed dreaded and dangerous...seeing as they split into unholy terror at the sight of

it....I paused, then poofed to the room where we'd stayed with Timmy for some time.

~*~

The glass is still shattered-and small shards lie everywhere on the floor. Although it would be quite easy to simply poof the broken glass away-or

to merely repair the damage with a wave of my wand, well....

I know it's silly....but I can't truly bring myself to WANT to move it, where it fell.

Or, more likely, where my little boy threw it at the wall, THEN allowed it to fall back onto the ground.

Munching on what now seems to be a Belgian Truffle, I pause, chewing thoughtfully in the silence.

My little boy. After years of believing I would never see the light of day when I received a child of my own.....along comes Poof.....

....and now, my godchild is my...son.

~*~*~*~*~

After Cosmo's adorable arrival...and somewhat ghastly habits I've learned to find somewhat endearing...such as torching Fairy World to a rich

flambe four or five times (Six, last Easter, if memory serves me correctly...) the Supreme Fairy Council had made up its mind:

Never again was a Fairy to conceive a baby. Ever, ever, ever again.

Over the millennium-after I dumped Vandissimo as a selfish, self-centered, ego maniac-and married Cosmo...who proposed to me with a chewed

pen cap that has nonetheless stayed on my left hand for thousands of years....that was never to be a major concern for me. Children. I was too

young to settle down and to have a family, after all-what kind of tramp would I be if I decided to get hitched when I was only a little over two

hundred? Absurd.

After all-there was always a new godchild to look forward to-someone to look out for and protect as your own until, eventually....time ran out.

That rarely occurred. Most of the time, a child exposed us to the world in some way or another....and, after a memory termination, had lost us

and any semblance of our magic forever. It was an endless cycle.

But, throughout the many days, I grew somewhat weary. And, while that's hard NOT to be when you marry someone with an IQ so low you have

to dig for it-I never allowed myself to grow too exponentially attached to my godchildren. It would only hurt too much when Father Time decided

to pull the "End Shift" whistle, and Timmy Turnstone would slide down a dinosaur, yelling, for whatever reason, "Yabba-dabba-doo."

Ironically enough, our lives were rather like the small poem out a children's book-one of the few Cosmo could read, other then "Cat sat on Mat"

and even THAT gave him a headache because he claimed it too scientific for him to digest.....

_The Big Wheel was folded._

_And the tent._

_And so they packed their wagons and away they went._

_For you see, gypsies, never come to stay._

_They only come-_

_To go away._

_~*~  
_

Considering what our lives were like-that suited us perfectly. We WERE only there....temporarily. And any and all proof of us ever existing was

simply wiped off the face of the Earth-albeit some of the old photographs we saved.

~*~*~*~

I wonder....when did it start to be too late?

Maybe it had been the moment Jorgan had assigned us to a miserable little boy named Timmy. It would, undoubtedly-be a short case....after all,

kids have big mouths, and the time would come, by hook or by crook.

But he didn't. And...on one insane escapade after another with him....

Who knew when it had happened?

Maybe it had been the moment we decided to put Vicky through several consecutive nightmares after she tormented Timmy on their seven

hundredth and forty seventh anniversary. Or....well.....

I didn't know. And I probably never would.

After Timmy managed to reclaim us-if not only by his very fingertips after he attempted to keep us safe from Crocker's insane domain-I think,

perhaps, it was then I realized just how much I loved the boy.

I knew perfectly well there might be consequences to such tender affection-but I was far past caring, at this point.

Now....those consequences....

Are gone, if only in a matter of speaking.

If Timmy was to ever go back to Earth...it would to be as a Fairy godparent. And no one was going to seperate our family.

But what kid could be so miserable that they would need not one-not two-but an _entire godfamily_ to take care of them?

* * *

The court had made its decision. Timmy Turner was dead.

And Timmy Fairywinkle Cosma was...ours.

Still....

Something stinks about all this. My brow furrows slightly as I stare up at the ceiling.

And it isn't the bag of adult diapers Cosmo uses on a regular basis.

Jorgan's known for years that the way Timmy's parents treat him is awful. Years. And they've forgotten many a birthday in his lifetime.

So....why now? Had this birthday been breaking point?

Something tells me no.

What had done it, exactly?

Or....more likely, WHO had done it?

~*~*~*~*~

I stare at the glass shards-some awesome, terrible tribute to the event that occurred just hours ago.

For the hundredth time that day-and I should very well know, seeing as I kept track-I wonder vaguely if I _should_ pick up the pieces.

But Timmy's Dad retains his creepy smile, and Timmy's mother retains her blank stare at the cameraman.

I don't know whether to pity, envy, hate, or love those two, after all's said and done. Perhaps it's mutual.

I snort, and aimlessly continue to stare at the cracked frame.

Timmy's father was a pencil pusher.

And, he sold sock monkeys. Harfly a good support career for a growing boy.

And....well...Timmy's mother....as a housekeeper and cook......

My cooking isn't THAT bad. Timmy only had to miss ONE day of school after eating one of my meals. One.

Whereas, after eating one of Timmy's Mother's fated lemon squares, the boy wound up in the Emergency Room.....

.....again, but that was another story.

* * *

They can have no memory of their little boy, now. Are they lonely? I shake the thought off, a small scowl on my face.

In any case, they rarely ever saw him. Would they move on with their lives as a family without a child? Most likely.

Those two certainly SEEMED to miss him when Timmy ran away from home....

....for three and a half hours.

And again, for two and a half days-when the ten year old had escaped into the network.

That had certainly been an experience. And it only took Timmy's Mom and Dad over forty episodes and two TV movies at that time to realize

their babysitter was a pyromaniacal lunatic.

Even so...they HAD pulled through...in the end.

If not to forget entirely, later on.

...but just like when the world had been separated into male and female halves-the void left behind from the other hadn't disappeared. Not

entirely.

Mom and Dad Turner simply made do with naming home appliances after their lost spouse-though, it really had done little good.

The code of Fairy magic simply can't go against true love. In that case....

I bite my lip at the thought.

Real, _true_ love....did Timmy's parents have that for their little boy? It sounded more then a bit doubtful to me.

But...Chester. AJ. Sanjay. Elmer. Tootie....

...the memory would be gone. The boy, after all....did not, and did not ever-exist.

Still, there WOULD be a fragment of recognition in their hearts for him. Would that be enough to kick start the...other memories?

~*~*~*~

I remember....hanging out with them....and Mr. Turner's usual greetings:

_"Have you gained weight? A LOT of weight?"_

_"Wanda! That dress is the most hideous thing I have EVER seen! They go perfectly with your rotten shoes!"  
_

I wish Da Rules would have permitted me to blast him off the face of the Earth. Unfortunately, a royal decree already insured that was a no-no.

But things are what they are. But that's never stopped us before.

So....what now?

Do we try and fight this one? Or simply let it be?

.....my mind draws up a blank.

Nothing.

* * *

Well, I'm....retired, now. In a matter of speaking.-I did, after all....just lose my job.

If Cosmo makes one crack about me long PAST retirement age, I'll sock him.

Once a Fairy godparent is fired, quits, or retires-it's simply back to Fairy World for a condo minimum, apartment (In Mama's boy cases-i.e, Cosmo-

their mother's house....again...) or....

A house of your own. A home of your own.

I stop in midair, pink orbs widening at the suden jolt of electricity running through me.

Poof...Poof could grow up in Fairy World-just where his mother and father were born and raised. This could be a marvelous opportunity for him...

...and his new, FULL fairy brother.

My mind began to whirl as I sank down into a nearby chair, staring at my hands.

Our castle was lovely....but what about the home I had wanted for over....seven hundred years?

I poof to the second floor...where I could find the master bedroom...with my boys still waiting inside.

* * *

~*~_  
_

_Love is a selfish creature. _It wasn't terribly good at letting things go.

Timmy was one of those...."things," I suppose. Now, it was just going to get ten times worse.

So thought I as I resumed drifting down the hallway. Everything was unnaturally silent here, tonight. Timmy is sleeping-for that, I am glad....but I

don't know just how much more his heart can take.

Sleep will only numb it-if just for awhile....but a moment's respite may be all the boy really needs. He's a constant chap-and is liable to get up

seconds after falling, albeit with a slight stagger. We'll give him time to let it sink in....and then, return to Fairy World for...house shopping.

I cringe slightly. The Fairy media was going to be ALL over this one. As if we didn't get harassed enough by the press whenever Poof came to

Fairy World....what about the Chosen One coming to LIVE in Fairy World with said only-fairy-baby-in-the-universe?

And then, as if this all these fun little things weren't enough-no one would leave Timmy alone in his grief.

Good news, bad news break. No one-particularly MY Timmy...should have to grieve alone over the loss of his home, friends, and family.

The bad news? A child hadn't been transfigured into a fairy for _decades. _They'd be breaking down the doors to get at the poor boy!

The thought nearly made me snap my wand in two.

Nope. Not happening. We'd find a fairly isolated spot. If worse came to worse-we can reapply our Godparent licenses and find someone to take

care of...if only for awhile.

Maybe...this was...better, for Timmy, in the long run. He just needed some time to heal. I would more then happy to take him under our wing.

Still...

There was an odd twitch in my head that I did not-DID not-like at all. Oddly enough, t wasn't my "Cosmo's going to make Timmy dead" sensory

again. Last time it had gone off, it had been Tuesday. We're still trying for the record, folks.

It was uncomfortable. And a foreshadowing of ill.

I exhaled softly.

Maybe I WAS getting too paranoid.

Shaking my head, I poofed to the bedroo-where Poof while still snuggled in his crib, and Timmy dozing next to Cosmo in his racecar bed.

I thought again of the broken picture, then shrugged it off as Timmy's head found my shoulder, his breathing deep and untroubled.

Forget them. Someone else needed me now.

I smiled faintly as Timmy snuggled into my side again, murmuring softly as my fingertips went through brown hair.

Wasn't that right, Timmy?


	20. A Disjointed Chain Of Memories

Love thy Godmother, Godfather, and Godson

A Disjointed Chain Of Memories

* * *

~*~*~*~*~

Thank you SO much for your reviews, everyone! *Huggles reviewers.* You are my chocolate….except I don't avoid you on the holidays.

O.O

Everyone-your responses have been overwhelming lately-and many suggestions I've taken deeply to heart as to change the storyline-if not

slightly.

But let's clarify a few things, shall we?

1) Tootie and Trixie. Two very different people. Timmy may or may not have a romance with one of them. Or…something else that is and isn't it

entirely.

2) Ah, yes….the godfamily thing. A whopping amount of you said "Stay with godfamily." We'll see what develops….

3) Anti-Fairy. You have no idea just how many inquiries I have had about Timmy having one. Everyone and everything has a part to play here-and

I don't want to drop any more spoilers-so let's keep it hush-hush on the anti-fairies.

4) A new godchild? Well….about that….ah…..well, Wanda REALLY does want to have a home in Fairy World….she's just reluctant to say anything

to Timmy about it. If they abort that plan and decide to be reassigned, they will. Who will that person be? You don't, under any circumstances,

want to know.

5) I like lemon cookies, long downpours, manga, cartoons, and penguins.

..........I said we'd clarify a few things-didn't say it was necessarily FOP material. Ah, well. ^^

You guys are too sweet. Except my flamers. But even a critical remark is welcome if it hones my skills in a more appropriate avenue. Just try and

watch your language-I don't approve of using swear words in any fiction, regardless of the situation at hand.

Anyhoo, we're going to travel just a bit around….well, somewhere else while Timmy gets some serious napping done. *Sends Timmy a hug.* Poor

little guy.

I'm going to release a very long chapter this time-or, at least-as long as I think it CAN go. Just experimenting. We're not seeing the Fairywinkles

today....sorry. D:

* * *

~*~*~*~

Quote:

"_Heaven is what I cannot reach!__ The apple on the tree,  
Provided it do hopelss hang,  
That "heaven" is, to me._

The color on the cruising cloud,  
The interdicted ground  
Behind the hill, the house behind, --  
There Paradise is found!"

If you were to be in Mr. Crocker's homeroom-and I sincerely hope you are not that unfortunate-you might have, days ago, found sixteen desks

lined here and there to face the onslaught of a new day of ranting about fairies.

Sixteen desks. Sixteen children. Sixteen self portraits on the wall. Sixteen essays on the wall about fairies....and world domination. All marked

with a red F...and one blue A for AJ, as always.

However, if you are to visit this classroom the next day-after Timmy began his recovery from the surgery-and, once again, I can only tell you I

sincerely hope you do not tarry with such a motion.....then....you will find sixteen desks, once more.

But one is vacant. As far as anybody knows, it never had an occupant in the first place. And fifteen papers hang on the wall.

Sometimes, Crocker WILL look at it....and brood to himself.

There's never enough Fs to go around. One more would have done it.

* * *

It had been done.

In the land of black magic-in an old, fungi encrypted ruin known as home-Anti-Cosmo lowered a small-already broken, of course-mirror, smirk

curving his features.

Again, Jorgan had fallen for it. If he were any more gullible or naive, Anti-Cosmo would gladly sell him a packet of fertilizer and tell him it was

enchanted elven dust.

It worked. A little....._tapping_ here and there....and, borrowing a little $ from the Pixies to bribe the jury had indeed done the job.

Turner.

An insignificant, annoying, dimwitted, buck toothed, sniveling brat.

Soon to be HIS insignificant, annoying, dimwitted, buck toothed, sniveling godchild.

Months of planning and preparation had done a splendid job indeed-and the pieces were beginning to come together. All would work out nicely

if the marionettes continued to dance correctly.

Wanda, Poof, and his buffoon of a counterpart, Cosmo. Pity, really-they were just as pathetic as Turner was, in the end. Did they not yet realize

what type of ticking time bomb they had in their hands?

....then again, Turner had wished for one of the most destructive powers in the universe to come to them-in the form of Poof.

He never WAS the brightest bulb on the Hanukkah bush, in any case.

* * *

A fairy infant without a way to REGULATE that energy in the form of a wand....or, in Poof's case, a rattle....

....the smallest whim could send chaos in their wake. Sadness would cause demons to run havoc in the streets-happiness to rain ice creams and

other pastries from the sky....

.....and, enough power in their tiny, newly acquired bodies to destroy the Earth.

Impressive by itself.

But....it paled in comparison of what the Turner boy could now...or, at least, soon enough do.

~*~*~*~

Anti-Cosmo, of course, was the living embodiment of Cosmo's antithesis, as Timmy once put it:

"Smart.

Evil!

.....smart!"

It hadn't taken long for him to guess what would occur if he invoked the wrath of the council upon Mr. and Mrs. So-Help-Me. Rather enjoyable.

And...it hadn't taken long for him to remember that Timmy was ELEVEN now.

...and, at an extremely dangerous time for him to be a fairy, IF he just so happened to....well....he did not know....lose his wand?

Or...control, as it were?

* * *

As infants, the power that manifested itself in a fairy was sheer, raw-and overwhelming.

It faded throughout their years as they slowly matured through babyhood to toddler-and then, to childhood.

But, when that delicate cycle again traced around the darkening moon-like that of a time dial....where the age of one had formulated to that of...

...sometime around eleven?

The power that had been registered on that of a fairy baby came back once more...if only for a short amount of time.

And, deities beware on what happened next....

~*~*~

Anti-Cosmo supposed Raigeki no Kihari-or, Raigeki for short-said it best in the fairy tongue:

Lightning. In its full, conjugated form, it simply retraced to a rather, unpleasant meaning on the whole:

_Death comes at midnight._

For a span of three weeks or so-the power that had been known to said body came BACK.

And, while fairy BABY magicks had been fearful....

....that of Raigeki was known to be completely and utterly devastating.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He supposed, that that cycle had been one of the reasons that the council passed a decree that a fairy was never to be born again.

Unfortunately for the idiots, they never figured out they neglected to put it in the Rulebook. Pitiable Jorgan.

When fairies DID reach that period, the law ordained them to keep hold of their wands at ALL times. Else, well....

...it was a frightening prospect. Your body...did things in your fury or your sorrow. Unpleasant things.

Those who experimented during the cycle and separated themselves from their wands usually left...an impact.

Mt. St. Helen's eruption? That had been a fairy.

The 1900s San Francisco earthquake?

Even Titanic had been lured into disaster when a fairy had experimented on a particularly chilly mood.

The force that ripped through was obliterating....as well as terrifying, he had heard from those who didn't lose their sanity after experimenting

had managed to recall...

....AFTER they had been taken from prison. It _was_ one of the most sacred laws to uphold in the land.

There was no way to hand yourself back-nor to be tugged away-from the intensity of your emotion. Those on a despaired rage had felt nothing

but a feverish, aching, burning desire....

....to destroy. And, to kill.

* * *

Timmy was far too influential for his own good.

That was why the boy NEEDED the dark fairy to...push him in the right direction. However, he was more then a little aware Timmy might not be

interested in bringing forth the end of the world. Hard not to be.

So, he would trick him into doing so. The boy would give himself to him...of his own free will. How to do this?

Well....he knew how HE would handle things. And gladly, too. He had the brute force of his entire race...as well as....others.

As for Turner....he would simply need a little...motivation to come to him. But he would, in the end-if his loved ones were kidnapped.

And, in danger. With no one left to turn to, he would give himself up.

It was his fatal flaw-and, like all tragic heroes, would ultimately be his downfall.

Once Anti-Cosmo forced him to surrender to be HIS evil godchild for eternity...the next step was to use his...equipment.

And take Timmy on a little journey through his worse nightmares. The most important-and extremely critical thing the dark fairy needed to get

across to the boy was that he had been ABANDONED.

And his enemies-his very worst-had saved him. Then, the fireworks begun.

~*~*~*~*~

Turner was far too trusting for his own good. Such as when he had first met the boy-and he had set them-future enemies free-to petion them to

stop plauging his family.

Did Turner realize that there WAS no reasoning with black magic?

Cute.

If not bone wrenchingly _sickening._

After his plot with HP had fallen through-to take over and ultimately destroy the world with Poof, Anti-Cosmo had watched.

And learned.

Turner would do anything-_anything_-for his loved ones. He'd even sacrificed himself to a whirlpool of instantaneous _death_ for the sake of his

_enemies_ on the blue moon in the Vegan system.

Yes, Turner was a hero.

A big, stupid hero. Anti-Cosmo could resist holding back a smirk, ivory fangs glinting in the darkness.

As for his plans.....well.....It would be simple enough to pull off-in his momentary despair of having his species transfigured. He'd simply need to

wait until Timmy healed a bit, yank out all his support, use the bait-and-switch with his friends and family....and, the boy would join HIM.

Once he removed Turner's wand and sent the "despair" volume on MAX....

.....he would make the boy forget. It would not be too long for before Anti-Cosmo could convert the little boy to his own code:

Intelligent.

Dastardly evil.

....intelligent!

The dark fairy cast a look at some of his lab equipment, a small frown curling upon his face.

The boy would be lost in utter darkness. Not even the Kindness...or, as his ignorant twit of a counterpart dubbed...."The Yellowness...." would

be able to penetrate the shadow.

He would be alone. Or honestly believe that his fairies had abandoned him to his fate. Even HIS resolve had to crack, eventually.

Nightmare after nightmare would plague him. And the tormented boy would fall to anguish.

And then, despair. Whichever came first. Anti-Cosmo vaguely wondered of the words "anguish" and "despair" really had differating counterpartic

meanings....

Hmmm. Something to think about. He adjusted his monocle slightly as he went over his notes for the umpteenth time, a slight sigh escaping his

weary body as he exhaled.

Once the boy's resolve cracked...or shattered, whichever came first...he would make the boy see _sense._

...and/or overwhelming rage, resentment, and blood lust to all that lived.

THIS was when it got tricky. He would have to...comfort, the boy-something he was not at all certain he could pull off-and the prospect made him

shudder unpleasantly-how DID you comfort a lonely child?

Black cats? Falling anvils? Charming monocles or evil shorts?

Well....he would deal with that once the time came. He and Anti-Wanda had quite a task on their hands.....but again, as his evil godchild, Timmy

would soon enough see things HIS way.

And then, readdress all of his power to destroy the Earth.

But why stop there? There were larger planets-kingdoms, worlds, empires-so many treasures greater to obtain then that miserable, backwater

planet.

All waiting to be conquered. Many would be satisfying to be destroyed. Like Pixies Inc. That would be splendid fun.

~*~*~

As for Timmy himself....well.....

Anti-Cosmo HAD always desired to have something all his. Anti-Wanda was ordained to him by fate-and while Cosmo's affections stretched just

enough to feel some love for this ignoramus hillbilly of a woman....

It was not the same. Foop, well....he was an annoying twit, to be painfully honest. Timmy, on the other hand, had a quiet charm to himself that

originated FROM his stupidity...and overbearing loyalty.

He had never seen such a thing. No one ever had any reason to follow him without question....

....and, not out of sheer terror. Though he preferred that attitude to resonate from that of his minions, well....

If there was anything the dark fairy followed by, it was the code to keep your friends close....and your enemies closer.

To your nonexistent heart, if necessary.

Once he earned the young boy's trust, the Chosen One could fulfill the final prophecy those buffoons had never sought out in the Cave Prophecy.

He closed his eyes.

_Timmy Turner...._

That name was quite well known over the universe as the bane of the what everyone failed to realize that a shield could easily

prove to be a deadly weapon....if only used correctly.

As a child, the Chosen One's fiery spirit moved mountains, if necessary.

Now, as a newborn fairy...about to hit that all too critical stage of _Raigeki. _He and his forces would have to strike while the iron was hot-and

exploit that power to the fullest.

Yes. The boy...would be his, soon enough. But the evil specter had to wonder if swiping Timmy's Mother and Father would be enough. The boy

most likely despised them by this time....and probably should. Anti-Cosmo knew HE would in his position.

...though, knowing Turner's overly pious nature, he would be difficult for him to even start.

The abduction of his fairies would be an excellent, second addition. But there were many others for Turner to turn to and inquire for help. Cosmo

and Wanda had family; there was Jorgan, that squid....

...and Timmy, when it came to his beloved ones, didn't give up the fight so easily. Anti-Cosmo's data was even show casing the boy's ability to

swallow his pride and inquire known enemies for help!

Oh, yes. This would be tricky. But no one had ever said it could not be accomplished, in good time. Every ally Turner had ever known would have

to be snatched away.

But a final, definite button had to be pressed....an all so sensitive button in Turner's heart....with the gentle press of a metric ton.

Someone Turner would learn to love just as easily as his godfamily.

.....like a godsibling. But he was already to snatch Poof....once again.

No....there would have to be a....new wrinkle in this plot. It was extraordinarily complicated-and hard to keep on track with. But, with correct

maneuvering, it was easy enough to understand.

Someone Timmy would....learn to like very much. Or learn to like even more so.

Yes.....

That spirit was rich and powerful. And, now coupled with the natural over protectiveness of a fairy, well.....

As he sipped his tea, another small smile made its way to the anti's face from his dusty armchair.

The Fairywinkle-Cosmas were house-hunting fairly soon. Maybe if he could...shake things up a bit for them, perhaps he could...gently prod Cosmo

and Wanda into renewing their godparentship license. Once THAT occurred, it would just be a matter of finding some poor, ignorant sap of a

child to receive said godfamily.

And....once he did a little...scouting, in Dimmsdale, it could easily be accomplished. Turner needed to be broken-so badly broken-he was way

beyond physical, mental, or spiritual repair. That meant going for the ultimate grand effect with an old....._acquaintance_ of his.

And it promised to be very grand, indeed.....

But, as Anti-Cosmo paused in midsip, the thought of using...._that_ particular source....made him more then a little uncomfortable. Ouch.

Maybe he oughtn't....ask for _that_ kind of help_. _He wanted the boy to break down...not to _die._

A part of Timmy was still human-and not infallible.

Fairies were often instantaneous in healing.....but THAT part of Timmy....was not.

He scoffed slightly, the slightest tangent of guilt rippling along his torso. With a scowl, he brushed it aside.

Curse that upstart Studwell. After doing the Figiglee gland transplant, he'd had more then his fair suspicion that just a _little_ more (hint, hint) then

that blasted gland had been transfigured from body to body. He'd never had such ridiculous thoughts before that blasted surgery....

...but that was neither here, nor there. Anti-Cosmo sighed, sat up, and peered out the cracked mirror of his home with vague interest.

Rain was continuing to patter down-and thunder booming seconds after lightning flashed astonishingly white in contrast to the boggy, onyx

skyline, where a faint chill could be found, outpouring in frosty hue with the rain thudding dully against the faded, cracked stones of the nearby

pavement.

It really was rather lovely outside. Vultures were circling, black cats were scuttling under the cover of dying bushes, yellow eyes looming from the

darkness, and vultures circling overhead while bats scurried from their caves to come out to play. Anti Cosmo softly exhaled at the beauty of it.

There were dead daffodils and rabid Venus flytraps everywhere. He really rather wished he had his watercolor set with him....but first things

first, first things first.....

With a casual flick, he transformed the small black wand in his hand to that of a cellphone, the ring tone echoing like that of a well practiced

funeral dirge as he impatiently flipped it open, and held it to his ear.

"Hallo, _dear heart. _You wouldn't, perhaps, remember that you owe me a favor?"

There was the slightest pause as someone answered in affirmative. Anti-Cosmo's smile widened ever so slightly.

".....good. I concur. Now....I believe, in your regard to properly bring compensation to such a matter would be merely to...."

As he trailed off in his sentence, getting an odd, somewhat puzzled reply, then an affirmative, the dark fairy inwardly sighed.

_Forgive me, Turner. Trust me-I'll take care of you....as my own, myself. It's all for the greater good._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was not, simply raining in Anti-Fairy world that day, however.

....albeit, the amount of density in rainfall each and every year there is greater then Seattle's or that of the Rain forest-but Dimmsdale's weather

was none too cheery that day, either.

Still, it had to be better then the earthquake, hail the size of minivans, and lightning that had struck the town just weeks before _Mother Nature_

retired.....

AJ glanced up at the sky, the smallest frown on his face as he drew deeper underneath his yellow rain hat and umbrella, rubbing a hand against

his nose as he did so, snuffling slightly.

And then, a car rushed past where the boy was waiting on the sidewalk, splattering the startled child with a barrage of cold raindrops and mud.

_Brrrrrrrr!_

It was FREEZING out here! He wished vaguely he HAD accepted that ride from his Dad-or simply brought one of the androids from his closet to

give him a lift-but Chester was to HIS house soon enough-and he did not feel like waiting inside.

Things had been....dull, lately. He really had no idea why.

AJ pressed a hand to his face, sighing.

In his dreams-everything was irregular and distorted, like a cookie cutter had taken a great deal of dough away from his memories....someone

popped in and out.

He had no face.

And he had no voice.

All AJ could tell was that he was always inordinately...HAPPY to see him.

With a sigh, he vaguely remembered the small photo in his bedroom-the one with his best amigo, Chester.

Back to back, they grinned....a large, empty space in the middle.

What was it?

As Chester made his way down the sidewalk, AJ scurried to meet him, a large, somewhat forced smile on his face from his bewilderment. It didn't

take a genius to notice that Chester had noticed as well.

What was missing? AJ didn't think it was even anything specific-like a braincell or a baseball bat.

It was....well.....

.......

Unscientific though it was, was it possible to miss something you never had?

* * *

In a house not even trick-or-treaters ventured to,

A streak of yellow rushed past.

And another.

And another. With a whizzing buzz, the dart landed directly on the waiting target across the room.

She shrugged it off.

Meh.

The red headed teen had always been a good shot-and always looked forward to practicing said aim-such as when she obtained such delightful

targets such as twerps-but, as of late, they were hard to come by.

It was a shame. A half, wild expectancy in her was still faintly brewing in her stomach, and, every so often, she glanced at the telephone.

But it remained silent. As punishment, she'd thrown it against the wall, then out the window, and then, she'd scurried downstairs to take a flame

thrower to it before it started raining....and then Doittle had come by to....to.....

Well, that phone didn't resemble a phone so much anymore as a pile of soggy ashes, slowly seeping and staining the grass below in the rain.

It wasn't her concern-she'd already dispatched her minions.....er....parents....to take care of it.

She yawned faintly, feeling bored. And, if Vicky was bored, then it was everybody's problem.

She'd gone through her daily planner and diary-but, funnily enough, most of the words had disappeared. Only nonessential information had been

relayed, much to her confusion. Tootie was far too terrified to try such a thing as going through her personal belongings-she'd long ago had them

bugged, anyway-but, Sunday through Saturday....

_Torture the twerp, Torment the twerp, terrorize the twerp...._

Who WAS this Twerp, anyhoo?

Something was unformating itself into the world-like a much used puzzle piece had been taken away, and another was being slapped down,

forced to somewhat fit.

If only somewhat.

Vicky exhaled, feeling more aggravated then ever with the penthouse of energy at her hands. Might as well order the parents to get a new

phone.

Time to get the mayor's goat.

Literally. Chompy had been in her way for far too long a time.

* * *

"Honey?"

The girl on the neatly creased, purple, four poster canopy bed ignored her mother's knock, eyes glazed over as if that insane teacher were giving

one of his lectures one fairies again. Moron.

Trixie faintly stared at the plasma screen TV, a small frown on her face as she listlessly flipped through the channels, feeling so out of it she felt

ready to face palm and blearily stare into space as the remote was halfheartedly pressed, again, and again.

_"And now, back to Love Problems!_

_"I love you. But I....have a problem."_

Yawn.

Click!

_"This program today was brought to you by a team of heartless executives who rip out your pockets and your treasured childhood dreams by-"_

Click!

_"Gotta catch them all, cause he's Danny Pha-"_

Click!

_"Buy now! Or else, wall up in a ball and whine about your nonexistent life!"_

Click!

_"We're the Warner brothers! And the Warner si-"_

Click! Bee-oooooop....

As the screen flickered off, the girl buried her head in her hands and sighed.

Trixie felt like screaming.

Over seven thousand channels, and nothing-nothing-to watch!

That was it. Daddy needed to buy a transmit to Mexico City.

RIGHT NOW!

But, even that made her seem somewhat hollow inside.

Her mother's knockings continued.

"Trix? You there, pudding-pie? It's time for di-"

The girl frowned.

"Not hungry."

At once, her mother's tone softened.

"Ah! Decided to follow in your mother's footsteps after all, did you, sweetie?"

Trixie was immediately on her feet, staring at the white washed polished door-plastered with pictures of unicorns-imploringly.

"N-No! I-I'm just not hungry, is all!"

From behind her door, she could hear her mother chuckle.

"Don't be bashful, honey cake. I started dieting about your age, too. The Paris addition, well....." she sighed dramatically.

"Picky, picky. It's never too early to start. Being a model....eat like a cicada, look like a queen."

The young girl had turned bright red.

"MOOOOM! Cicadas DON'T eat anything!"

"Exactly my point, sugar dear. If not just enough to give you a little push. Now, we'll talk diet and exercise tomorrow, hmm?"

The girl had opened her mouth to exclaim-but her mother's footsteps had already faded away towards the elevator.

After blankly staring at the door for a minute or so, the girl calmly made her way back to her bed. And calmly made her way to her pillows. And

calmly took a soft, large, vintage pillow into her hands.

And then, abruptly buried her face to scream into it.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Ever since the Tangs had left their home country to come to here, well.....

Her father was a wealthy entrepreneur. Her mother was a renowned model. And, everyone knew it in her family that Titania Tang's greatest wish

was for her daughter to follow in her footsteps.

And...at first, she had tried. It wasn't as if she didn't get enough of THAT at school.

But, the hollowness in her chest had not gone away-much as she hoped it would when she took a giggling, airheaded cheerleader named

Veronica to be her BFF.

Quite the contrary; it had gotten worse. Trixie stole a glance underneath her enormous bed.

And, then, abruptly pulled out a small, little white, petite lacquered box.

* * *

Ah.

Sweet, sweet sanctuary.

Grisly, revolting-and oh so sweet in non-imitable violence ....comics.

There, Trixie did not have to parade herself. There, she could wrap up, cozy and warm-and, simple and clean, read a good case of gore to steady

her nerves whenever her parents-particularly her mother-got on her nerves.

Reaching for a somewhat ripped comic, the one that that girl had given her that day at the mall....the one who looked like....like....

.....?

Well, no bother thinking about worthless junk. Trixie read on.

At the end of the issue, she lowered the battered paper, a soft sigh on her lips.

That girl....why was her memory somewhat blurry? Ti...Ti....

Timantha had let her see fun, for the first time. Whether it be in the form of comics, acting in whichever behavior suited _her_ for a change-feminine

_or_ masculine...

...and she had promised to go to her party. But she'd never shown up. What had happened? She had promised.....and Trixie worried about the

girl she'd come to like so much in such a short time.....

...but no. Instead, that.....other.....that.....

?

Again, her mind drew a blank. But words faintly reverberated in her heart.

...a gift. A present. That had got her attention, alright...but it had been something....precious.

Words. Just words of friendship that had heavily panged in her heart.

But, in the sea of staring eyes at her reaction, and the uncertainty of these..._.feelings_.....she had never found in the countless number of boys she

had flirted with, in the past....

...she'd had...someone...kicked out.

But who was it? Trixie didn't know. But they....she had felt somewhat....understood, that day. And that, among all of her gifts-many of which

ended up in the fireplace, anyhoo-was more precious then words could say.

Understood that she was....tired.

And, at the end of the day, wealthy-yes. Pretty-yes.

But she was just a girl. That was all. And no one had acknowledged that the "princess," or the belle of the ball-might have something.

Emotions. And feelings of her own.

And a dream-not to be a model...but a...a....

She drew her head into her pillows once again.

A...cartoonist. No way in HECK would she ever let anyone know, however.

The preteen placed her fingertips to her aching forehead.

These...broken...and....scattered memories....were...chainlike, in a way. There was always another link to finish the chain.....

~*~

_A pair of saddened blue eyes were gazing into her own, but a smile at some unknown query she had made graced his features._

_"Perfect."_

_Her lips had brushed against his-or maybe his against hers. She didn't know-and didn't care._

_Who...was that boy?_

_Against someone-in her first ever, for actual....kiss, head spinning, heart thudding like a frantic bird in her ribcage, all she could do was hang on_

_to his cold hands-afraid that the storming inferno overhead would steal him away-_

_But the boy had drawn away, much to her discontent-and gave the raging shadow above their heads a seething glare that didn't quite mask the_

_fear in his expression._

_"YOU WANT ME, DARKNESS?! YOU GOT ME!"_

_He had turned to her again, the girl's pale fingertips desperately clinging to his own.  
_

_"So long, Trixie."_

_She had tightened her grasp-but he was gently pulling himself away from this tower of creatures, an enormous, buff fairy yelling frantically at the_

_boy to stop-_

_Too late._

_With a parting scream, the winds swept the boy-wildly fluttering-away into the dark skyline as she managed to shriek-_

**_"T-!"_**

_The hideous mass seemed to recognize that the boy had fallen...up, if possible-into its depths. With an odd, rasping shriek of its own-it had_

_quietly withdrawn into the void of space, the wild gusts of inhuman power no longer holding anyone up as the tower began to fall-_

_A multitude had shrieked the forbidden name-the one only represented with a slight "Tuh" sound._

_"Nooooooo!"_

~*~*~*~

With a flash, the girl bolted upright, breathing heavily, and staring at now somewhat shaky palms.

Oh. She had fallen asleep.

Shaking her head, she flopped up against the covers, still frowning slightly.

She KNEW she didn't imagine the boy. That was a start.

But....what was his name?

*~*~*~*

Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you forgive me. In this little town, we will, perhaps-have to go back to an abode I most certainly hope-along with

Crocker's classroom-you not visit regularly.

Vicky's house. I am also well pleased to inform you that, past the funeral music played there once or so every day-you will find, perhaps, the

smallest bit of cheer in the North right, circular window.

.....not today, but I digress.

~*~*~*~*~

The walls were red.

The carpeting was a soft red as well.

And....other then a toy chest, a closet....her bed.....crayons...

A hand tentatively tapped the plain walls, frowning slightly at the irregularly shaded squares of color on the walls.

Did her room always look so....bare?

She could vividly remember...posters. Or decor. Something of that sort.

But all she could even recall was a slight blur. And, a distorted face.

For some reason or another, there was a tape recorder found under her pillow with a faint voice playing every time she hit play. It sounded...odd,

like it had been tampered with-probably Vicky-but, underneath the strange, inane garble, she found herself listening carefully.

?

Tootie lay on her rug, vaguely staring at her collection of toy magic wands neatly organized in a nearby toy chest Vicky had not found worth the

trouble to burn...yet.

At least her dumb pit bull hadn't made its way into her room. Doittle was not at all a nice dog-and he growled at Tootie more then once. Then

again, the small girl found it doubtful that the mean old thing really appreciated anyone but Vicky, in a nutshell.

Her mother was busy downstairs, frantically looking for her car keys to go shopping for a new phone soon. Dad was cooking dinner-which rarely

varied from Vicky's favorite pork chops.

Ewwww. She wasn't going to think about that one.

Another thing that had been troubling her as of late....

Tootie got up, adjusted her glasses slightly, and made her way towards her dresser-where a small box neatly lay.

....what was in here, again?

She held her eye to the scanner, and, after that clicked-proceeded to lay her fingerprint on the next scanner.

After THAT box clicked, she opened a small padlock combination.

....and then, drew out a tiny, lacquered, lacy box-among other distorted items.

The girl slowly opened the satin covered box to find....

To find....!

A small cupcake ring. A small, old, cupcake ring-which still smelled all sugary. Why had it been left in this precious box?

Tootie didn't know. And, momentarily, did not care as she awkwardly slid the plastic ring over her left ring fever, admired it for a moment or so,

then hurried to look at the other "special" items.

What was this? It looked rather like a piece of a...a...

Sash? Like those kung-fu guys on TV?

Her hands timidly made their way towards it, fingertips brushing over the faded material.

With an astonished cry of alarm, she drew back, wide eyed behind her glasses as a lightning flash of WHITE flashed through her eyes at the

sting-!

Someone was yelling at Francis in front of her.

_"She may be creepy, but.....she's the only one who BELIEVED IN ME!"_

_**"AND I WON'T LET YOU HURT HER!"**_

~*~*~

_A cascade of blurry images began to break their way through as-!_

_Y*E&%!*%TL?????_

_Stars were brightly twinkling in the air. Lights were flashing below-as well as cheers echoing from below in a sea of presents._

_Presents....for her. All for her. Vicky took hers or destroyed them. _

_But someone was exclaiming wildly to her-in a panic, and she forgot that soon enough, her own heart frantically pounding in her chest.  
_

_Someone's lips were pressed frantically on her cheek. Why, she did not know, how, she did not know, but all she could feel in her stunned stupor was_

_the jagged and disjointed heartbeats-which had resumed after stopping for a brief instant the moment What's-his-face had kissed her.  
_

Ah.....her head felt overwhelmed with sweet tenderness. Tootie staggered a step backwards from her drawers, attempted to regain balance-

and fell on the floor, twitching convulsively.

~*~*~

_"Tootie? I'd like you to have this."_

_An old, red action figure was placed somewhat awkwardly in her hands. Someone was shuffling their shoe against the floor, looking uncomfortable._

_And...somewhat....shy?  
_

_"Listen....Tootie. You're a girl. And....I'm just...well...."_

_Two voices popped up from the dolls in his hands.  
_

_"A stupid ten year old boy!"_

_The boy in front of her nodded in agreement, looking somewhat disgruntled._

_"And....I'm not INTO girls. And I won't be, until...well...."_

_"He's a stupid **eleven** year old boy!"_

~*~*~*~*~

He had said something else. Something about love.

And she had gone all fluttery.

Sort of like the butterfly storm in her stomach right now.....Tootie pressed a hand to her stomach, and closed her eyes.

Someone was gruffly asking if they wanted to be her valentine.

And she had exploded into a sea of kisses.

~*~*~

_She had felt fear. True, true fear when somehow, the boy was gone._

_And, she had felt more courage then she had mustered up in years in that moment. For some reason or another, she remembered her thoughts_

_had gone dark._

_Vicky._

* * *

Who was he?

And....what was his name?

Tootie stared at the house across the street from her window, somewhat broodingly. That was where the Turners lived.

She didn't know much about them-but no one did. They were just a childless, eccentric couple that went out fairly often.

It appeared that they already did for the evening-seeing as how the windows were already black.

So why....did when she DID think about this boy....did she think above the old house with the blue shutters?

The girl frowned slightly.

....?

Something....wasn't.....quite....adding up here.

And, if it meant that she'd be able to remember the boy any clearer, she would simply have to take another, closer look.

~*~*~*~

Whew! D: I...am....

*Faints.*

Please, please, PLEASE review. I'm really very tired-chi. Sorry about that.

Ah, yes...magic can only go so far with true love.....and, soon enough-the Turner abode is going to get a lot of unexpected houseguests. ;)

You'll see, in a chapter or two.

Y'know, I found myself learning to LIKE Trixie this chapter...and even start to feel more then a little sorry for her.

Wow. This love triangle....soon to rectangle, once I bring Star into this....will be complicated.

Though....I guess it won't be so much as a rectangle as much as a polygon (Five sides.)

Drop me a review if you have any time! Have a good Black Friday. ^^


	21. Much Ado about Break ins

~Love thy Godmother, Godfather, and Godson~

Much Ado about Break-ins

* * *

Hello, once again, people. *Hugs.* Hope you're okay. I can't promise a daily update like this...but I certainly will try for it for as long as I can.

Anyhoo, I'm trying to break my review record-*Laughs, embarrassed now.* ^^ So, drop me a line whenever you feel like you can, okay?

I'm fifty or so away from breaking my record....^^ And I want to go all out on this insane story with every and any aspect I can think of.

Anyhoo, take care, okay?

* * *

_Quote:_

_"Be aware. For the night has a thousand eyes._

_And the day but one._

_Yet the light of a full day dies,_

_With the dying sun._

_The mind has a thousand eyes._

_And the heart but one._

_Yet the light of a full life dies,_

_When all is said and done."_

_

* * *

_

It was not an uncommon sight in the small neighborhood, as Tootie had indeed noticed-to see the Turners leave for the evening.

Tonight, they were in a wild mood-and all the adrenaline that came from youth's sheer fire was bubbling up in an explosive cauldron of esctatic

sparks, sure as anything else to quickly burst into a wild flame with the insanity that came from living off the edge.

What were they doing, you may ask? Very well. I will oblige....but my younger readers may wish to turn their heads away. Even my elder readers

will be overwhelmed by the matrix force of overwhelming action and recklessness that came from the untamed thunder of what activity they were

partaking of.....

First, they were going to watch a five hour documentary on yarn.

And then, eat corn chips while watching snails race....after going to the museum....after hours, when all had shut down.

Once they arrived, perched in the bushes, aided with a pair of binoculars.

Yes.

You are correct in your assumption, much to your horror.

Mr. and Mrs. Turner were watching the paint dry on the building, amazed at their own daring.

* * *

But that was neither here nor there. At least the Turner's car had already faded away from view-headlights just a dim twinkle away into the

night. Excellent. The girl exhaled, heart pounding to a jagged rhythm as she uncertainly made her way towards the house from the bushes,

adjusting the scarf that hung around her shoulders and jawline.

Crickets were chirping faintly in the distance as her feet brushed against the carpeting of the unfamiliar house, and quickly darted to the nearby

steps of the nearby staircase, heart pounding.

What she was doing NOW was nothing short of the dumbest, most reckless, and awful things she was ever going to do.

And she loved it, frightening though it was.

Whew. She was in.

The Turners were nitwits-that much had always been evident from those two idiots. Instead of oh...I don't know....locking the door....they put a

sign on their door.

"Take anything but the Food." Honestly.

The girl took a cautious step forwards in the darkness, grasping the cold metal of her nearby flashlight-that still hung in her belt.

She took another step forwards-

And screamed.

* * *

The girl shrank back in disgust, the parts visible of her features contorting with revulsion.

Ewwwwwwwwwww!

When was the last time the Turners took out their trash? Last YEAR?!

And....honestly....their dishes? They looked more like filth encrusted, mutating fungi. Shuddering, she hurried on.

~*~*~

At least, like-she had gotten in like, okay.

Yuck. This house was so, like-last century. But then again, practically anything was over three hours ago. Which was why she was happy Daddy

kept an interior decorator on hand.

....who conveniently taught her to break into a window without actually shattering the glass. Luckily, those after school activities hadn't hurt.

On the contrary....

...she smirked slightly as she drew herself in. This was too easy.

About to congratulate herself, she peered upwards.

And abruptly froze.

A small flashlight was cautiously flickering itself around. The second girl's heart nearly stopped in terror.

She was not alone.

* * *

Quickly shaking her head to draw herself out of her stupor, the girl rushed into a nearby corner, fighting to control her breathing as she knelt

nearby a chair, fingers trembling violently.

If whoever was here called the police....

....but why would THEY have to, like-flash a light around if the system was working just, like, fi-

Her eye's widened.

Oh.

Oh, whoa, OMGosh, :o :o :o So help her.....

Texting fingers absentmindedly moving, the girl reluctantly reached for a nearby Ming vase.

She had stepped into a burglary.

* * *

And you though digging for the ancient underground city of the mole people was tough....

....but, if you could get lunch at Seaworld by simply taking care that you didn't get caught, or taking down coyotes with nothing but your bare

hands and a pair of braces....

The boy uncertainly pulled his companion up. It was really too much of a shame that AJ could not have shown up. He had asked for....help....but

the little Einstein simply said he, too-would be busy tonight.

He had had a funny expression on his face...but that was neither here nor there. At least someone had managed to answer his pleas for help.

...albeit, they had an evil, talking boil on their face, but that was beside the poi-

The boy started, eyes widening.

The sound of something hitting the floor....and someone sliding down _rope._

Oh, man.

_Oh, man, oh man, oh-!_

~*~*~*~

It had been just a half hour since she had made two lipstick marks under her eyes, drawn in full ninja apparel, and gone in.

Were it not for what's-his-face, she probably would have already lost her nerve.

Carefully, she stepped forward, willing even her pulse to slow down and quiet itself.

She jolted.

Someone stepped back.

And a pair of feet followed suit.

_She was not alone. _

Courage beginning to slip, three pairs of feet began to run blindly in the darkness_, _as three pairs of feet began scurrying near the door._  
_

* * *

Wow.

You had to admit, walking through the front door DID have its advantages.

Adjusting his glasses, the boy cautiously stepped forwards, keeping his hand on his partner's. He couldn't fit the Night camera lens over his

glasses-so he would have to rely on-

He abruptly pulled his friend back.

Multiple pairs of ultraviolet scannings indicated-

To put it most ordinately and scientificately:

Oh, crud.

~*~*~

Hmph.

Why he was HERE, in this filthy hovel....he would never know.

But still, he was breaking in. Otherwise, he would have been driven mad soon enough.

He rather wished he had simply sent one of his servants....who could have sent THEIR servant....or their servant's servant's servant's cousin-in-

law...

...but if you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself.

So, he had simply gone onto the roof...ew, was their local chimneysweep at work? The boy wrinkled his nose. Ash everywhere. He would throw

his suit away from being in such UNSANITIZED air!

Yeecchh.

So, he'd simply called his servants to drill a small hole for him-next to one already carved on the roof.

He would not-NOT-use some filthy commoner's way in!

But, nonetheless, after he'd entered, and....well....

....immediately backed into someone.

~*~*~*~

The girl who had simply walked in the backdoor narrowed her eyes, biting her lip.

There were NOISES around here! Maybe it was time to abort mission....

Like right NOW! She could swear something was creeping up behind her.....

Still creeping....and now, came the sound of running-as someone backed into-

"!"

~*~*~

Sanjay had only enough time to flash the lights on before chaos exploded.

The lamp fell with a crash onto the floor-next to Trixie-the original break in's-head.

Managing to stop her assault in time upon recognizing Trixie, Veronica nonetheless staggered back, and accidentally grabbed Chester to keep

her balance.

However, Chester panicked, and seized Elmer, who staggered over Remy, who staggered over Veronica and tripped on the rug, after accidentally

kicking AJ in the shin, who panicked with pain and stumbled back into Tootie, who panicked in the few seconds of blindness to kick out in the

dark-and caught Elmer by mistake, who accidentally brought Tootie crashing down into the pile of bodies on the floor.


	22. Dark

~Love thy Godmother, Godfather, and Godson~

Dark

* * *

Bonjour. Yes, I brought Remy into the script. I think he's a perfect match for Veronica. ^^ Sadly, there is, perhaps, ANOTHER reason why

Remy just can't stand Timmy...if you know what I mean. ;) Veronica has big eyes for Timmy. Why, I will never know.

Also, I have learned my...shapes, this day. Let all of you take account that YES, I have learned my shapes. (Thanks, Pen. That was an error,

on my part.)

* * *

_Quote:_

_"There is never enough darkness to drown out the smallest flicker of light."_

* * *

Humans and their worthless emotions. It was STILL utterly enough to induce vomiting.

With a sigh, the mirror was lowered, Anti-Cosmo looking quite bored on the whole as that gangle of human pre-teens continued to argue.

And, not even over true memories. Just memories that they had once been _there._ How pathetic.

This was really quite boring. And, there had been nothing to watch-not even on Fairy Springer!

The educated fairy gave a curious glance at the small, ebony, and slightly cracked mirror in his hands.

Well...he had some time on his hands...time on his hands....

Why not look into the future? That was always good for a laugh.

And the fairy knew just what to...take a small peek at.

The fairy lay the mirror close to his own features,every exhaling breath creating a small bit of fog on the mirror's dirty, cold surfaces.

"I want you....to show me...what Turner will look like....as one of us."

The mirror grumbled in response.

"I want YOU/...to start brushing your teeth, mac. But I don't see that really happening anytime soon."

Anti-Cosmo scowled. With a sigh, the mirror's surface obliged by turning black.

For a moment, silence.

And then, the surface slowly began to dilute.....

~*~*~*~

A dark chamber. Well. That was hardly interesting. The fairy sighed.

Well, so-

Anti-Cosmo's voice hitched as a small, petite figure on the dark, elegantly suave throne came into view, skeleton hands adorning the polished

onyx stones.

Oh, yeah.

He was hiring that room's interior decorator.

~*~*~

On that throne, was Timmy Turner.

Or, whatever was left of him. Didn't he look just PRECIOUS? Anti-Cosmo devoutly wished that Anti-Wanda had not devoured the camera on

one of her cravings moments earlier.....

The ten year old was gazing into space, a haughty, bored expression on his face-and a most charming, little black tophat on his head that

was simply dapper on him.

The wings on his back were....dark. Like that of a skeleton vulture's bony wings draped in a funeral pyre's.

Timmy's visage was all too perfect. The dark fairy leaned forwards, breath catching in his chest as he did so, frantically beginning to wipe

away at his his monocle with his pocket handkerchief, eyes enormous as he attempted to take it all in.

Skin adorned with a healthy glow was now quite sallow-as if the pale boy had never seen sunlight-or had even _heard _of the concept.....

His eyelids were heavy-and a soft violet tinted them, as well as black eyeliner in a somewhat elegant hue to compliment the dull flesh

surrounding cold, frosty, sharp cobalt-

No....Anti-Cosmo blinked. Blue? That wasn't right.

The orbs were transfixed to a bloody red as the boy blinked, and, now a bloody hue, they were sparkling merrily.

What had been once soft, brown hair....had been transfigured to midnight, raven tinged spikes, falling shakily around the face that had used

to be Timmy Turner's, quite unkept.

Where humanity had been torn, the sorrow was still coplanar on his features by faint lines on his flesh-but those had been readily ignored.

The boy's red orbs bored into Anti-Cosmo's, and the dark fairy shrank back just a little.

On his _face_.....

**Evil.**

Pure, unmolested, _evil _was written on his expression-and a wanton desire for more, lust carved for ever more darkness from the faint blue

veins that showed up so well on his alabaster flesh-!

His lips parted in a soft smile. Rather then an evil laugh, it simply made the small boy look ever more terrifying then before. The smile revealed

ivory fangs, and a serpent like tongue to boot.

Speaking of his boots.....

The boy's were jet black, and a cape was draped (Guess which color) around his somewhat thin shoulders.

Elegant and dark was his onyx apparel, and, the cape slowly trailed away to ragged bits against his sides.

In his gloved hands....there was a....a.....

The Anti-fairy leaned in eagerly, only to draw back, looking disappointed at the petite figure resting in his palms.

A doll? Why on earth was the boy cradling a small....TOY in his hands-for one who looked so wildly hungry for death?

The doll's hair was like his own.

Her porcelain, however, was somewhat rosier then his own-and hopeful eyes sparkled as he cradled the Victorian piece in his hands, mindful

of her elegant skirts and small petticoat.

It was baffling. Never mind that-it was completely and entirely flummoxing for Anti-Cosmo.

How could anyone who looked so _awful_ be so.....?

Gentle? Surely, any minute he would let the doll go with a sneer or a smirk-and send her to the floor, shattering into microscopic pieces. Anti

Cosmo waited, adjusting his small ocular lense with a small frown.

He waited...

....and waited....

....and waited.

But still, nothing came. The boy simply sat there in his terrible throne with the small doll, looking at it-gazing at its features-or turning it

around with an odd expression on his face to take off the doll's small hat and turn it over in his hand, or to look at the doll's tiny leather

shoes.

The anti-fairy watched.

And, grew impatient.

.....

........

* * *

What was WRONG with this boy?! The world at his fingertips-THE WORLD, for crying out loud....

....and ALL HE COULD DO WAS PLAY WITH A SMALL DOLL?!

Finally, with a small sigh, the boy stood from his chair, and stretched slightly, faint interest turning to that of slight boredom or tedium,

yawning slightly.

The fairy watched intently as he hopped down the onyx steps, doll still safely in his hands as he crossed the enormous room-footsteps

clattering and echoing quite loudly in the otherwise deathly silent chamber-making his way to a large crevice in the center-where a small

valise neatly lay, waiting.

Perhaps Turner was bored of his doll? About time.

The boy reached for the small box, humming tunelessly to himself as he did so. As he did so, he reached for another box lying on the side of

said counter, pausing in his efforts to lay the small box down, and open the larger, doll still folded in his other arm.

Although the fairy could not see the doll's features, what he COULD discern was a small, simple smile parting her lips that done the less

parted with a sparkling sort of vigor.

A mallet. A large, wooden mallet. About time. Anti-Cosmo absentmindedly munched on some popcorn.

A-HA! Finally, he was going to break the stupid little-what?

The doll was carefully lain down, and Timmy was absentmindedly reaching into the inside of his cloak-near his chest cavity. He was wincing

somewhat, as if he were in slight discomfort-then, pulled out a small stone that nestled quite comfortably into his hands-whitewashed, as if it

had come from the seaside.

Still humming, the boy opened the first valise-the contents of which Anti-Cosmo could not see-and pulled out a small....

.....toy.....robot?

But he wasn't done. Smiling faintly, the boy was now pulling out a small plush toy that looked rather like an oversized sock with limbs and a

head with no hair-and no face.

Then, he pulled out a smaller one.

And another.

And another......

~*~*~*~

Finally, the table was covered with the small trinkets-plush dolls with little more detail then a small pink ribbon tied around their necks or a

small bit of emerald thread.

And then, the boy reached for a nearby needle and thread, a small smile on his face.

~*~*~*~

For nearly an hour, the dark Timmy stitched at the plushies, continuing his tuneless hum as he did so.

Anti-Cosmo had never been so bored in his existence. Once Turner was done stitching some other details on a doll-all he ever did was pick up

another!

And another.

And another.....

~*~*~*~

Finally, the boy lowered his work with a sigh, giving his handiwork thoughtful looks. Splendid. The dark fairy had been ready to fall asleep

right where he sat!

The boy reached for his mallet, and then, began to hammer on the stone he pulled out from what had to had been his cloak-and, after slight

resistance, watched it break under the pressure,

With a nod of satisfaction, the boy began to slip the rock fragments to the dolls-under their clothes, their sashes-and, in the case of the

porcelain one and robot, tenderly around their belt or sash.

Finally, once a stone chip was secured around each toy, the boy-his back still to the dark fairy, slowly turned around, a small, shapeless doll

with a stitched mouth in his hands.

Anti-Cosmo screamed.

* * *

NO!

The boy's face was devoid of any malice. Rather, it had a rather large smile gently tipping his expression, eyes once again a cloudless blue.

Nonetheless, his expression was contorted, as if pain.

And, as the fairy finally looked down from where the boy's hand lay on his stomach.....

CRASH.

The mirror went flying across the room-only to shatter against the wall, moments later.

But he had seen enough to know what that "rock" had been.....and where Turner had really gotten it from.

* * *

That had been no stone.

That had been the boy's_ heart._

~*~*~

Well.

Taking a sip of tea to steady his nerves, Anti-Cosmo sighed, and wearily took a few steadying sips of tea, desperately trying to forget what

he had seen, just moments ago.

What had it meant?

And...was it any indication of what the future might hold?

The dark fairy frowned, scowling slightly as he partook of a few more sips of the hot liquid.

Nonsesnse. He would simply have o overlook that madness.

Turner's heart...even AS a fairy, well....

____

Fairies didn't, in truth HAVE hearts in the term of an organ. Mainly, because they didn't have blood for it to pump _with. _

What allowed them to coexist AS fairies, however...well....and regulate the magic that inwardly came and faded from their bodies as

newborn infants....was a _kroshi. _

But removing _that_, well....was simply....fatal. A transplant? Anyone could survive that, if you had a wel trained (i.e, not Studwell) and a fair

amount of luck. The same went for heart transplants for human bodies.

Removing it? You were dead. And Turner simply took it from his body, cheerfully broke it-and carefully gave a piece of his heart to a doll!

How was THAT for slightly disturbing? Anti-Cosmo faintly watched Anti-Wanda chewing on the drapes nearby-no new story there. With a

slight attempt at a smile, he thoughtfdully muched on a biscuit.

People made their own paths. As for Timmy's, the fairy would simply be in _charge_ of his destiny.

* * *

As waiters bustled around the fancy atmosphere, pleasant, classical music playing in the background, the man continued to rant on about his

day as the woman across from him picked at her pasta dish.

"And so, when Dinkleberg wakes up the next morning, he'll realize that it WASN'T fertilizer-but dog-"

The man broke off upon finally looking up, and seeing his wife's listless expression.

"Uh...hon? You okay?"

Mentally, the man frantically began to sweat in his tuxedo-worse then he had done on his wedding day.

Had he...forgotten something?

Their anniversary?

Her birthday?

His pants?

But the woman just let out a shaky sigh and a small smile, looking somewhat pale.

"Sweetheart, do you think there's...something missing in our lives?"

~*~*~

The man blinked.

What?

Understanding tinged at his features, as did a slight smile.

"Ohhhh. I see."

He chuckled slightly as he patted his wife's thin shoulder.

"Don't worry-we'll pick up that mewing cat record tomorrow."

Tamara just frowned.

"I....well...."

She slowly shook her head.

"It...isn't that, so much, sweetie. I'd....actually like to go home, now."

Dad cast her a bewildered look.

"Why? Is it the food, here? Because I'm fighting my own revulsion as we speak, and hiding it in my-honey? Are you...okay?"

Tamara buried her face in her hands, the small frown still on her face.

~*~*~

_"I love you, Mom."_

Mom.

The name sounded so right. As did the voice.

But where had it come from?

Tamara thoughtfully chewed on a small breadstick, but soon lowered it, feeling somewhat ill.

These dreams had been plaguing her for nights on end, now. Would they never cease?

.....or did she really want them to?

The woman abruptly stood up, the husband giving her an odd look.

"Hon? You alr-"

But, without another word, she bolted for the exit, heart hammering in her ribs-leaving a bewildered man inn her wqake.

Maybe he HAD forgotten something....

* * *

"Hon-HONEY!"

Tamara Turner continued her wild sprint, heart hammering in her ribs as she did so, her husband desperately trying to keep up, huffing as he

continued his wild pace.

"Hey, sweetie-you never told me we were running a marathon for our "special time" together! I should have scheduled it in the nice planner I

stole from Dinkleberg!"

His face faintly formed a pout as his wife ignored him-still continuing to jog as her feet met the damp, salty wood of the pier, something white

clenched in her hands.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ah! Perfect!

Cosmo smiled slightly as he lowered somewhat bruised hands with a sigh.

He just remembered what it exactly, he had been doing. That was always a good start.

The piece was finished. And perfect. Cosmo faintly wondered if he should use it for BATTING prac-

No. No-this was for Timmy. Timmy.

Which rhymed with Jimmy-that fudge head.

Fudge head.

Sort of like a sundae topping that gave people, so to speak..."brain freeze." He had never had the sensation of such a thing.

Ah, well. Today was a special day-and, in his extremely rare flashes of insight, went to Big Daddy to plead him for help. Magic wouldn't do.

Of course, the man had made him undergo a long and humiliating string of tests-many of which involved many unpleasant things...like

wolverines-a fair amout of those......rabid skunks....and that matter of those three hundred acres of no man's land.....

....but at last, the older fairy, torn in between pity, hate, personal amusement, and caring emotion for his grandkid-who was still hurting-Big

Daddy had consented to help him construct the small piece. He was at all bad with a wrench.

~*~*~*~

Cosmo had a lot of things he was never crazy about thinking about. Mainly because he was never quite good at thinking in the first place.

Still, he might add-or subtract, seeing as he couldn't do either-he DID care about Timmy. And, hopefully, before this day was over-Timmy

would like the piece before they went...er....shopping.

At least, better then he would appreciate the other gift in his pocket-a lemon lollipop he'd already licked-and had been saving in his pocket

for three weeks or so.

After he had arrived back at the castle-quite exhausted, he decided to watch some brainless cartoons as Wanda anonounced she would be

ready to leave in ten minutes.

.....which was, in her words, an hour-but that was something else altogether.


	23. Author N: Continuation should Be Soon

Love thy Godmother, Godfather, and Godson

~*~*~*~

Author's Notes: Continuation should hopefully commence

* * *

_Note One:_

.....hallo, everyone. Finals are now finished. *Everybody dance now....!* ^^

I'm so, so, so sorry I couldn't update when I said I would! D: Unfortunately, well....I was very much in the zone of writing said chapter....when,

well....my Internet connection pretty much died on me. Then...I sort of lost any desire to resume work on the project. '~'

Gomen nasai for my continued absence....but, before I fall on my knees and beg for mercy...'~'.....(Which I must do, in any case....) there has been some...recent controversy on my story.

Gomen Nasai if I upset anyone...that certainly was not my intention. D: I guess I should get something off my chest....

This Summer....as well as this year...has been an excruciatingly painful one for me. Fanfiction was a wonderful way to vent out my emotions...by

way of many characters whom I hold very dear to me. The idea of LTGG&G was pondered over for a few years now (I always hoped that

Nickelodeon would create a movie in which Timmy would have to choose between family....as I have had to.)

I mean, come on-the Turners only realize what something is truly worth-what's really precious-in this world, after they lose it.

In other words, they're asinine, thoughtless dolts. '~'

I mean, Cosmo isn't the brightest bulb on the Hanukkah bush either...but the dear does mean well.

Anyhoo, I used to take three walks a day in the Summer in my new home-my guardians were never home in the daytime...and so, not much

changed in my existence: I got up, watched some telly, called my _grandmaman_, went on a walk, ate breakfast, typed for a little while, pondered

over things, read, prepared lunch, went out on another walk, eat lunch, type.....little changed but my writings. You can only escape so far into

fantasy, but I did find it comforting...and, real enough to me, and those who were kind enough to read it.

But back to Timmy-I only just started writing LTGGG. I typed up a first chapter-received five reviews....and, felt a small spark. This was going to be a fun project.

And...long it takes me to update nowadays, I do appreciate the feeling that comes with the end of a chapter and the hope for a new one. And,

more then anything, loved to receive the feedback that came with it.

My point, exactly?

.......uh......

....?

What was it, again? It kinda changed.

Well, I DID just want to give you all cyber hugs if you have chosen to stick with Timmy even this far....*Huggles...* and I am truly, truly glad of you.

And I certainly hope you have joyous holiday tidings.

~*~*~

What else...? Oh.

And...if someone writes something....a little....likewise mine (I have checked Miss Sierra's tale, and, I won't give away much...other then an evil

Tootie; very interesting concept) and acknowledges it as not their own....then, well....^^

Que sera sera. Do not worry. If anyone wishes to create something like my pieces-or, does it accidentally....I would appreciate to hear about it in

the future. I am not a lawyer.....but Miss Kitty-chan is an example-she did ask before she created a piece of art (Which I do love very much) and, I appreciated her asking.

To make a long story short: Please just give me a heads-up next time, oui?

* * *

_Note 2:_

Get ready for a long series of chapters hopefully becoming available around next month-ish….and a very, very long explanation.

O.O

Um…h-hello, everyone. *Coughs nervously.*

Awkward silence….*Authoress throws herself on the floor.*

Aaaaa! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so, so, so sorry! Gomen nasai, gomen nasai, gomen nasai!

Candlelight/Lauren is so very, terribly sorry for waiting so long to update! *Bursts into tears.*

Um….u-um…Lauren can explain: Lauren has to take (For eight weeks) an extra day of school (Dies inwardly) on Saturdays for five hours on how to properly take the ACT. *Dies inwardly again.*

Lauren's guardians have also informed her that unless she gets an excellent report card-i.e, English=A, Geometry BETTER equal B…or better yet, A (Or I get strangled with the end of an extension cord ^^) Spanish had BETTER be a B (As Timmy's Dad would say, "Or else!") Just as Child Development, PE, Science, and US History need to be As…and stay As…while other subjects need to Bs…and brought to As.

*Sighs.* I get so distracted so easily these days….forgive me. My heart wasn't into doing this project because it was too daunting a task…and, it reminded me of my own situation. I have a pretty bad family crisis going on (Yet again) and, this time-the trial that's going to take place in April for me and my brother's guardianship is going to be for keeps. *Sighs again.* Sorry. ^^ I know that's not much of an excuse, seeing as how I'm the dumbest Muppet on Earth, but I DO have another few excuses up my sleeves…..

I entered Fanfiction to receive criteria on my work and to grow as a writer. It's not quite like that, anymore. Sure, I certainly need to grow and learn-and improve my skills by any means necessary-but, most of all, I just want to make people happy by doing these tales. I want to know that by something so trivial as a Fanfiction tale, I'm doing something that isn't really quite useless with my time-if someone enjoys it.

Does anyone know a Mikell or a pearl84 on this site? (My Danny Phantom readers just might know pearl…!) And, as much as I adore getting reviews, I want to be able to make just as much impact on readers with my scenarios-and make them laugh, cry, or simply go "Awwwww."

I want the capabilities of this story to go far. I want to be like Mary and Jennifer in the sense that I can actually create something so special. The writer's workshop is more then just the inks we stain our hands with (Or the sore fingers we get if we type too long….! Lol) it's the art of the human language in many shades and hues, diversifying into a spectrum of spangled colour and medley, should we prove successful in our intentions.

*Siiiiggghhs…..* I haven't quite gotten there, yet. I need to get better. I want to make people happy-chi-and pay back some of the overwhelming kindness I received when I was glued on my fictions all last Summer; desperate for an escape that could only come with hard work, and the fun review that was NOT a flame.

*Sniffs.* Thank you so, so much, everyone. *Runs off to cry.*

Right now, I want to publish four more chibi-turtle one shots….and, I want to finish Kingdom Come, Legacy of a Nightmare: Ryou's Tale, Temper, The Epitaph of Dusk and Dawn, It's a Dog's Life, When Kitchens Collide, Motherly Affection, 'Paradise Lost', Hearts, Shooting Fallen Stars , Gryphon's Keep , Letters Unsent , Poof and Timmy: Hittin' The Road………

…..*Faints.* I was in such a hurry that sanity couldn't keep up with me till now.

This month so far is dedicated mostly to my DP projects....which I want done, and I want done NOW. Honestly, I'm not sure if I can take too much more of this....

*Sighs wearily.*

Okay, my guilt finally exploded, and I had to leave you guys with these notes-if just a reassurance that I WILL be back...mainly because March is ALL FOP (March....huh? ^^ Kinda ironic) and I should hopefully have SOME of my projects out of the way. :D

* * *

Alrighty, I think that's it. But before I go, I might as well leave you some spoilers for this story. I guess it's the least I can do:

~*~*~

_Timmy WILL fall in love with someone._

_That someone will betray Timmy. Will someone else pick up the pieces?  
_

_Mrs. Turner's memory is continuing to be slightly affected, over time. Magic does NOT work on true love._

_We will see four girls get into a cat fight over a certain someone._

_Someone will leap off a building._

_There WILL be a death...but not from the building part._

_There are consecutive kidnappings._

_Cosmo does something so incredibly stupid that, even by our measures of judgment for the guy, it's worse then when he accidentally left a million wands for the Destructionator in Wishology._

_Timmy's kroshi....ah....well....let's not talk about that...._

_Another prophecy makes its mark._

_Someone is destined to either save the world or destroy it._

_A shopping mall will be burnt down._

_The bunnies are restless. They will attack at dawn._

_Cosmo does not have enough kibble.  
_

_We learn how much wood a woodchuck could chuck if a woodchuck COULD chuck wood._

_Timmy is an awful flier_

_And, the million dollar question will be decided:_

_Will Timmy be returned to his parents-and lose his godparents as well as any memory of their prior existence? Or will he turn his back for his new Fairy family....and, as a result, trigger a....!_

_Can't tell you too much, can I? That would be most unfair._

_Adieu, everyone. I'm still doing my best to finish these darn fictions. I'll hang on with these tales as long as I can.  
_


	24. Reviewer Tribute

Love thy Godmother, Godfather, and Godson

Reviewer Tributes

~*~

Hallo, everyone! :D Well...today, I'm going all out to update (So I can clean the house all I may and get ready for school tomorrow.) Thank you, random Presidents for whom a day is named for (Which a lot of us-if hopefully not ALL of us-get off!) Yay!

^^ I'm going to keep trying my very best. I know, I know I promised MARCH would be the month to start with this Fanfiction once again....but today is a rare treat (As is everyday, I suppose) and, I zealously hope you may be if only a bit happy, this day.

I'll do the best I can to improve as a writer, test taker, student, and person. Spring is on its way (Distant it may seem to be) and, as long as we're alive, wishes will keep being made, regardless if we get them from a Fairy Godparent (Raise your hands if you wouldn't mind Anti-Cosmo being YOUR godparent) or, if we must work to configurate them ourselves.

Am watching The Sound of Music-my favorite movie ever. Julie Andrews looks so pretty in the wedding scene....and, Captain Van Trapp....

*Blushes, scurries away.* Sorry, Trap-guy-Cosmo is just as adorable.

Alrighty, enough of me prattling-I do that enough on my OWN watch as it is. *Sighs.* ^-^

I want to leave a small tribute to my reviewers before this short chapter-if I may be so inclined to. I also want to say that I don't KNOW how this fiction will end. What will be, will be....and I hope for the best, in the meantime. I know most (If not all) want Timmy to stay with Wanda and Cosmo (Because they're better parents then Mr. and Mrs. Turner could ever be, I know....)

But, the truth is....^^....;D...well, some things will...happen. And, although that won't affect the final decision for which family Timmy will take, it may take some effect on your opinions. Or, at the very least, you might feel a slight twinge of pity for these two....

* * *

_Quote:_

_"Where can I find true love?  
That God had gave from above?  
How many struggles do we need to make it through?  
When do we say that a statement is false or true?_

How can I forgive others?  
When they killed my peers?  
Can you give help to those people in need?  
After they have dropped you and you bleed?

Who are the people you can trust?  
In this world, to fight is a must.  
The world will continue to evolve,  
Until those questions have been solved."

~*~

Belle Mort 13- For always kind commenting, for teaching us that a woodchuck'll chuck as much as wood as a woodchuck CAN chuck wood (Excellent to hear again :D) and for fortitude in pursuing this story, despite a goshawful, scatterbrained writer-

The bunnies will attack at dawn. :D Fly, my pretties, FLY! ^^

Thank you very much. ^^ (Poof sends a warm smile.)

OddAuthor- You're always too kind, OA. :) I probably would have dropped the story without your support. Duly appreciated-and I like you spin on things. (Lauren sends a TrixiexTimmy story.)

OceanSunrise32- Awww. Thank you so much. * * * ^^ 'Gomen nasai' means, "I am sorry" in Japanese. (Sanjay sends a stuffed kitty.)

Second daughter of Eve- You always manage to find one of my stories. ^^ First it was TMNT, then FOP, then Danny Phantom....

Heh. ^^ A girl couldn't ask for a more loyal reviewer. Doomo arigatou gozaimasu. (Chip Skylark sends a CD.)

aryaneragon4ever- Awww. You're quite the loyal reviewer, too! It's very nice to have. 8D

*Wanda sends a dish, but Cosmo takes it away for your health's sakes, and sends pizza.* Salud.

Radar180- *Giggles.*

You're too complimentary, as always. *Flushes, Timmy sends a green backpack.* Merci.

Linzerj loves Warriors- Well....I don't know about a million dollars....*Laughs, huggles.*

^-^ You're quite funny. And it's very sweet of you to keep reviewing! *Sends Cosmo* And we're ALL goons here, my dear-so never fear!

zack maniac-*Laughs.* Awwww.....thank you so much. Sorry...I have regular habits of pulling houdinis. It's a tragic flaw of mine. *Sends a wand.* Thank you so much for your wonderful words!

I'mdancinonthefloorforacartoon-Heh.....I'm sorry I keep disappearing.....I do it very often.....'~' *Sends a bouquet of flowers.* My bad....gracias for your support....

silver windflame- Sends cookies and a big hug.

That comment was one of the nicest I have ever heard. *Huggles.* Merci!

Mikichu-You guessed right! I'm busted! Lol.....*Sends a PPP T-shirt.*

Alana-kittychan- Awww.....*Huggles, and sends chocolates.* Thank you so very much for your kind words-and your picture was awesomesauce! *Treasures fiction picture. :D*

K. C. Ellison- Ah....yes....the controversy over my story....D:....I would be heartbroken if someone stole my material. It made me very sad. *Sends a pixie cell phone.*

GodOfStorms- *Hugs.*

Doomo arigatou gozaimasu. Your words, suggestions, and opinions have proved to be invaluable. *Sends Timmy plushie.*

The Mythical Pen- Heh....Thank you so much. Pentagon.....lol

*Sends a book on shapes.* :D I couldn't remember.....

unknown20troper- You have very interesting pairing ideas. ^^ It's always a pleasure to hear from you. *Sends Norm the Genie's lamp.*

Toraus-Awww.....^^ Thank you. *Sends Wanda.*

Tippi-Heh.....^^.....He is indeed. *Sends a picture of Anti-Cosmo's brain in comparison to the idiot we know and love.*

soulful100- *Squeaks.* The ANTI chosen one....you guessed, in a matter of speaking-!

*Huggles.* Very intuitive. *Sends Mark's spaceship.*

Arcy911913- Thanks! :D And that's the mystery....

LaughingAngelsGibberish- Arigatou! I'll keep trying to!

Imagi- Giving Timmy blue hair....I was considering giving him a blue stripe....but that IS something to think about, my dear......*Sends a hug and Poof.*

Interesting thought!

RedHerring1412- You gave me the MOST AWESOME idea for a story for DP! *Hugs, hugs, hugs.* Once I actually get some FINISHED (ROFLOL,) I wanna start on it!

*Sends AJ's computer. :D* Merci!

-Hyper 4-chan-YOU CAUGHT MY ANIMANIACS REFERENCE! *Hugs.* Most excellent. Thank you so much.

*Sends Animaniacs Season set.*

Astreiks- Sorry....I hate making people sad....but I'm glad it's captivating.

Brittany-Heh...*Goes red.* :D Thank you so much. *Sends cookies.*

Arcy911913- Indeed. :)

Amethyst Topaz- Thank you very much. That's very kind of you to say! *Sends a necklace.*

E350-Thanks. I'll keep trying.

v-hills-Awww.......thanks! ;) *Sends a collection of Fanfictions.*

shadow-Very intrepid. Thank you very much! *Sends candy.*

Astreiks-That's extremely nice of you! Merci! *Sends a hug and a bunny.*

BritanyBritany-Awwww....that's very sweet. *Sends a wand.*

xXBrokenWingsForeverXx-Always very cool to hear from you. *Sends Anti-Cosmo.* THANKS!

noname100- Hurray! I'm happy to hear that. :) :) *Sends a Fairyversary muffin.*

A.M.-That's all I wanted to hear. :D ^-^ *Sends a hug.*

Chakram Soldier- Arigatou! I'll keep trying! *Sends stars.*

Angelellbaby- ^^ *Huggles, sends Poof's rattle.*

Wirewolf-I'll keep trying! Thank you so much! *Sends FOP movies.*

wandaCosmo Forever-You're too much. Arigatou. *Sends Tommy and Tammy.*

FuturamaDinosaur- * * * :D ^^ :D *Sends Dad's smile*

Firehedgehog-Thank you! *Sends a fruit basket.*

Writing Destiny- I hope it does. ^^ *Sends a feather pen and inkblot.* Arigatou.

Arcy911913- I'll keep trying! u Merci! *Sends a camera.*

Little Juniper- One of my DP readers! Thank you! *Sends a Danny plushie.*

BlackSparklingRose- Awww. :) *Sends cake.*

NonSequiturs-R-Us- Your reviews are awesomesauce! I loved them so much! THANK YOU! *Sends brownies.*

Anna McNarin-Tis alright. You were only being honest. *Sends a medal.*

James Birdsong-Gracias, James. *Sends enchanted lemonade.*

acosta perez jose ramiro- Thank you, mi amigo. :) :) *Sends Fairy crown.*

Silly Olivia-Thanks for the translation! ^^ *Sends a dictionary.*

Lil' Pup-Sends a doughnut and a hug. Not very well, my dear friend.

Wolvmbm- Heh! Thanks! *Sends comics.*

JB Slade- That's a good idea...*Muses, sends scarf*

E350-Thank you very much! *Sends a picturebook.*

KR-THANKS! I shall try. *Sends hearts.*

Michael J.J-Thank you so much for the constructive criticism. *Sends fairy dust.* Most appreciated. :D

Nova Bucker-Heh....^^ Thank you so much. *Sends a hopeful early update.*

The Lady of Darknesss- Merci and gracias! :D ;) *Sends the Striker Z.*

Independent.C.-Thank you! I'm happy you think so! *Sends the Dinkleberg's pool.*

~*~*~*~

Everyone, thank you so very much.

*Sinks into a dead faint.*


	25. Promise: Tamara's Turner's Tale

Love thy Godmother, Godfather, and Godson

Heartfelt Promise: Tamara's Turner's Story

*Swallows.* Hi, everyone. I know a lot of you probably won't be following this story anymore...and I'm sorry. I had to wait until I was a bit better, and I considered simply deleting this story, and starting again.

Cheers to OddAuthor, who gave me a gentle push to keep going. ^^

Please, take care, everyone. If you're still interested in this story, I promise I won't keep you waiting as long.

* * *

_Quote:_

_I thought I saw..._

_...a shooting star..._

_...it did not make a sound..._

_It was so high..._

_...I can't be sure..._

_It ever touched the ground..._

_But I am SURE I saw it fell,_

_And it brightened up my day,_

_Won't you say that you,_

_Thought you saw it, too,_

_...so I can feel this way?"_

_~*~__At the age of 21, Tamara Ellsworth (for that had been her maiden name) had married fresh out of college, much to her parents' hearty disapproval. To Tamara, it seemed rather hypocritical, as her wealthy mother and father had wed even younger when they still resided in Ustinkistan, but, as her mother insisted, that was hardly the point._

* * *

_The man whom Tamara fell in love with, who had given her the trophy he'd won for winning a race at eight years old-was a janitor. A clean, simple, run-of-the-mill janitor who had applied for the job at campus to lower the ridiculously high tuition fees that covered all his Pencil Pushing, Advanced Pencil Pushing, Pencil Pushing II, Physics of Pencil Pushing, and the Philosophy of Pencil Pushing, and How It Relates To Our Central Government And Our Meaningless Daily Lives classes._

_Mr. Turner had had his eye on Tamara for quite some time, but, as Tamara had been in love with a man her parents had actually approved of, Sheldon Dinkleberg, a.k.a, 'that nice boy with the even nicer pants,' Mr. T had been reduced to watching his beloved spend most of-if not practically of all-her free time with Sheldon from the shadows._

_He, being a gentleman, never forgot to give Dinkleberg a hearty scowl whenever the two happened to pass in the corridors. In fact, Mr. T had taken a few college credit courses on Glaring, Advanced Glowering, Several Obnoxious and Downright Crude Hand Gestures 101, and a refresher course of Remedial Teeth Gnashing and Advanced Rage, just for the daily occasion._

_But Sheldon soon deserted Tamara after receiving several grants from the Military and Medical Industries, much to the poor girl's despair. And while her parents were quite dismayed at this, they still rather wished (And do wish to this day, my dear readers) that Tamara had found someone kind, sweet, sturdy, and reliable….rather then Mr. Turner who, to them, was a complete, and total-_

_...hmmmm. Maybe I should try rephrasing myself..._

_You see, Mr. and Mrs. Ellsworth thought that Mr. Turner was nothing short of an absolute...!_

_..._

_Well, he didn't seem quite so kind, sweet, sturdy, and reliable to them. Let's carry on. Mrs. Ellsworth was horrified at the idea of Tamara dating someone so beneath her, and Mr. Ellsworth seemed to think that the only way of knowing Mr. Turner's exact IQ was to not test for it, but dig very, very, very, very, very (This goes on for pages, so let's skip that, shall we?) VERY deep for it._

_If one existed at all. _

_Unfortunately, on the many Dating sites that Tamara browsed, she could find no one with such splendid qualities that her parents continuously reminded her were critical of a good husband...excepting Chompy the Goat, who was booked in dates nine months in advance. He was known as quite the charmer, and a ladies' man...er...goat. Whichever. _

_So Tamara had accepted a date with Mr. Turner, and then another, and then another. Upon meeting her parents, well….Mr. and Mrs. Ellsworth had expressed their concerns about the young couple. Mr. Ellsworth offered Mr. Turner a good seven hundred thousand dollars to leave Tamara, and Mrs. Ellsworth anxiously asked Tamara if she TRULY would rather date Mr. Turner then Chompy, as the woman was quite certain she could pool her vast sea of resources to procure a date with the can-eating hunk. _

_But, as both were adamant, Mr. Ellsoworth decided to express his distaste of the whole thing by trapping several rabid coyotes in the backseat of Mr. Turner's car._

_And, when the Wedding Invitation came eight months later, Mr. Turner had had to not walk, but limp down the isle, as his most unwilling, new father-in-law threw him a Bachelor's Party the night beforehand….which had a theme of 'Extreme Sports.' The main event: An all out, Free For All, Race, Mr. Turner….against seven snarling, ravenous Pit Bulls. With the car as a finish line._

_...and a few more 'Congratulatory' gifts in the trunk. Those gifts just so happened to be starved wolverines, and they had happily bitten off the 'Just Married' sign that Mr. T had clumsily painted for the back of the destroyed tin can the man had once called a car, which now remarkably resembled a piece of tin even the boy scouts wouldn't be collecting anytime soon._

_But, to Mr. and Mrs. Ellsworth's credit, perhaps they have warmed up to Mr. Turner since then. For Christmas, they refrained from sending the usual Fruitcake and rabid dogs, in lieu for snarling bobcats with very sharp teeth-and no fruitcake._

_A delighted Mr. Turner, in the Holiday season last year, hardly minded that he had to be, once again, tugged out of the house on the stretcher he'd made himself. The calibrations, pain and suffering, mental anguish, and physical trauma were down by fifteen percent this year._

_Maybe they were finally starting to like him._

* * *

_Anyways, before a menagerie of snarling woodland creatures interrupted me…..as nothing says 'danger' quite like a red-eyed Bambi gone feral..._

_The Turners were wed young, and their dreams for the future were high. As childless adults, the little money they had was theirs, and just theirs. _

_There were concerts on the weekends, and pizza delivered to their new apartment in Dimsdale three times a week, Chinese take-out a good four days. _

_They stayed up late. They went to movies. Mr. Turner pursued his Pencil Pushing career, and the new Mrs. Turner worked as an accountant and Real Estate Saleswoman._

_There were board games to play at night, and, as car payments and rent money began to be paid, plenty of things to enjoy after work. The two partied, quite long, and quite often. (Often with the most ridiculous people in the most ridiculous of places...)_

_But before you were so rudely interrupted by an editorial..._

_It was simply what they did, and thrived upon. Mr. Turner bought a motorcycle, and cherished his dream of one day buying a genuine, 1960s, Striker Z. As for Mrs. Turner, it was a Seller's Market rather then a Buyer's, and she enjoyed her job, even if her ex-boyfriend, who lived not too far away, made more then she and her husband combined. _

_Her husband could glower at Sheldon all he liked-SHE personally enjoyed living in an apartment. As it was not theirs, she could be careless with the place, if she so chose. No annoying maintenance, or windows to break, or lawns to keep up, or gardens to replenish._

_Some people had green thumbs. Tamara Turner, however, had a black thumb, blacker then Scrooge's heart before a few ghosts showed up, and blackmailed him into fright, and to the point of realizing the error of his ways. Tamara's mother had NEVER let her daughter help her in the garden. Just looking at her prized geraniums the wrong way could cause them to wilt._

_A seedling is very much like a child. And every seed the woman touched, simply recoiled into itself, and died._

* * *

_Life was good. _

_Then, one morning, Mr. Turner had had to ask if Tamara had gained weight….quite a lot of weight. In response, Tamara had brought out one of her famous right hooks directly to Mr. Turner's jaw._

_While the two were in the ER, tending Mr. T's almost dislocated side of his face, the world had begun to spin in Tamara's eyes. Wretchedly, hurriedly, quickly-it had spun, and the poor woman had been violently ill-as if she had once again attempted the near fatal act of eating the food she tried to cook._

_The Doctor had asked for the woman's recipes-most likely to show to the Poisoning Department at the hospital._

_The doctor had very kindly offered a Physical to Mrs. T, and the bemused woman had accepted, upon learning that it was free. In kind terms, Mr. T was very frugal with his money, and, in earthlier phrases, he was a skinflint and a cheapskate. Mr. Turner had once attempted to give himself ocular surgery in lieu of paying $200 dollars, and was well known as a menace in the hospital community._

_Mrs. T, much to her disappointment, HAD gained a bit of weight….but just a bit. The woman also confessed to morning sickness, and the occasional craving of watermelon with a nice covering of barbeque sauce, and a side of mustard and cheesecake. _

_It was then that the Doctor, curiously stroking his chin as he looked over his notes while Mr. T was still being stitched up in the ER next door, had given Tamara Turner a small device, and a kind invitation for her to use the bathroom._

_Her hands shook; obviously, the thing was lying. She hadn't dared to use one of her husband's home-made pregnancy tests (She rather enjoyed her ability to breathe, with all due respect to Mr. T), but THAT one would certain give her a -._

_Not this. This….couldn't be correct. At all. Maybe it was a division symbol, and not a….p..pl….._

_She couldn't even say it as she stared down at the white device._

_+._

_She couldn't be with child. She just couldn't be. She was too young-still far too young-to have a little girl of her own. _

_A beautiful, adorable, little girl, with her Father's dark hair in little curls, and her mother's bright eyes. A little girl to push out in a pink pram, much as she'd done as a child, albeit with one of her dolls inside._

_A little girl. A bright, Barbie-esque, little girl of their own. A little girl with hair to braid, and to put in bows, and to have old ladies fuss over when they passed by, cooing softly._

_She felt the tiniest, tremulous little twitch inside of her, and she pressed her hand soothingly to her stomach, rubbing it absentmindedly._

_At the thought of a girl, this situation looked brighter by the second. She'd always wanted a daughter, and mother's intuition-girls had to be born with this sort of thing-told her that she was carrying a girl._

_Tamara glanced at herself in the mirror, her eyes pink. With a quiet sigh, she bent over the sink, and began to wash her eyes after turning on one of the taps, still lost in thought._

_Their apartment was far too small for a child. But it would mean redecorating a room. Had Tamara not chosen home finance over Designing, she would have gone into business as a Room Organizer, Refurbisher, Redesigner….._

_They would have to move, but they could afford a small home in the suburbs. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad. There would be wallpaper to pick out, (Much to Mr. Turner's despair, as he felt his wife spent rather too much time in that arena of the store as it was), soft, plush animals to gather, a crib to buy, EVERYTHING to buy…._

_…if she had this baby. The alternative was...an abortion._

_Tamara uncertainly glanced at her stomach. She supposed that she was Pro-Situation, which was a bit like Pro-Life and Pro-Choice, but….._

_Again, the infant stirred in her womb; not enough to make her wince, but enough to make her fidget a little bit in uncertainty. The movement was gentle. Was the baby kicking her? What was it doing, exactly?_

_Well…._

_Tamara glanced at the door._

_She could figure this out, later. For right now, she needed to have a serious talk with her husband. Her brow creased as she wiped her hands and face clean. _

_How **dare** he call her fat?_

_She glanced at her womb again as she made her way out._

_Oh. Yeah. And there was this 'baby' matter to bring up, too._

* * *

_It was quite lucky that they were still in the hospital. Mr. Turner had laughed faintly when Mrs. T had told her the news, expecting that she was joking._

_It was then that she showed him the pregnancy test. The man had looked at it, and laughed….and laughed weakly….._

_Maybe she should have waited until her husband had recaptured his wind. _

_The man had fainted at the news, and an irritated crew of Doctors were forced to drag out the electric paddles, with many shouts of, 'CLEAR!'_

_In five weeks, they were packing their things. Mind drifting, Mrs. Turner had taken the paper plates on which they had eaten dinner, and absentmindedly began to scrub the increasingly soggy bits of paper, her thoughts all over the map as she pressed another hand to her growing womb._

_The child was a mild one, and while it was a kicker, it did not kick her particularly hard, something for which she was grateful for. If it wasn't weird cravings, (She had chewed up a good thirty percent of her husband's pencils a few days ago) it was weird mood swings, and a great deal of morning and evening sickness, though there wasn't so much of that anymore, thank heavens._

_Tamara began to scrub at a greasy box that had once contained chicken, not noticing how the sad, soggy little thing was literally melting in her hands._

_They had decided to keep the baby. Though Mr. T still had rapid heart parent anxiety, he was…actually looking forwards to the girl they were going to have. The man was far too cheap to have an ultrasound, so he simply made a scanner himself, and affirmed that Tamara was to expect a girl. Tamara wasn't sure how he could tell what the little bundle still nestling inside her was-the baby was tiny, and the scan made it difficult to see much of anything-but she too, felt the joyous conviction and promise of a little girl._

_Mr. T had liked the name 'Samantha,' while she liked 'Taylor' or 'Tammy.' The two had argued about it for such a long time, that at last, they consented to combine the name. TiMantha._

_TiMantha…._

_Tamara Turner sighed dreamily as she turned the tap water off, and, hands still wet and soapy, began to pack dishes into the waiting cardboard box at her feet, unaware she was packing the wet paper plates._

_~(*)~_

* * *

_Tamara's position in Real Estate had helped the two settle in fairly quickly. _

_They had moved next to the Dinklebergs, much to her husband's anger. Just to knock at Mr. D, the man began to take night classes to insult his non-mutual enemy in Espanol as well as in Ingles'._

_But it had been fun, to visit Girl's World with her family and girlfriends, to buy pink teddy bears with silver wings and soft eyes, pink wallpaper, a pink princess bedspread…._

_Tamara's nervous neighbor friend Irma, who supposedly had a six year old, living terror named Vicky (Something Tamara did not believe, as she had met the little girl, and found her a convential sweetheart, once you got over the fact that the child stole her classmates' action figures, tied them to stakes, and burned them on the front lawn) was too, expecting a little girl. As a sort of 'Congratulations,' or, as Irma put it, 'Consolation' gift, Irma bought Tamara a small pink hat for the child to wear when she had a Daddy's day out, and went to her first baseball game._

_Tamara was already dreaming of the day. _

* * *

_Months later, it had came. Very, very early in the morning, or very, very late-in the dead of night, depending on how one chose to look at it...the child came with the first ray of early spring sunshine. _

_Her body had been racked with agony, and the responding baby shuddered from within her, as if apologizing, as patient doctors and midwives bent over a distressed Tamara. _

_Whoever had said that childbirth was a beautiful moment-had lied. Lied, lied, lied-lied-lied-lied LIED! _

_For hours, Tamara Turner was in that Godforsaken delivery room, gasping, as tears burned to her eyes, and trickled down her face. The seconds were minutes, minutes hours, hours days. It simply dragged on, and on, and on. _

_Her hands were glued to her quivering stomach, but no one could tell if she were attempting to comfort herself, or the child stirring inside of her. Maybe it was both. _

* * *

_And, when the pain finally, FINALLY-began to recede from her, and she heard a soft mewing sound echo in the room, more tears began to trickle down her face. She'd sagged back, eyes lost in exhausted wonder, as the nurses bent over a small child, who she could hear feebly weeping bitterly._

_A small, tired smile graced her features, as she fell back into her pillows with a content sigh._

_The child's flawless skin was almost translucent in the little light that could trickle down from the stirring March skyline from the window. Where life was again stirring from underneath the ground made cold and harsh by months of ceaseless winter frost outside, from curious birds who happened to look in the window where something very small, and very wriggly was snuffling in blankets-_

_Another life had stumbled into the world that day. _

_The baby's eyes, as they could be seen whenever the child sleepily blinked, were a watery, sky-blue. The hair was not black, but brown-a darker shade then the light chestnut of his mother's, rather like a sturdy oak, or a willow branch rich in colour. _

_Yes, dear reader. His. _

_His hair. His little fingertips. His small, blue panda pajamas, and his small, blue blanket cradling him._

_His._

_And Tamara was crushed._

_Her eyes still red, face flushed, mouth twisted and contorted with the cold vibes of disappointment still shaking her from the inside, mocking her mistake-Tamara let out moan after moan, while wayfaring nurses glanced at her sympathetically, or disapprovingly. Some avoided looked at her altogether in the small room. _

_The woman shuddered from her rocking chair, biting the inside of her mouth as she fought back more of the salty tears burning in her eyes-fought to keep them from trickling down to join the other opaque tears still streaming down her face._

_Mr. Turner cupped her shoulder as she wailed, and, upon being disturbed from slumber, the frightened, and confused child began to sob from the hospital bassinette. But neither parent paid any attention as Mr. T bent down to kiss his wife's cheek, face uncharacteristically gentle._

_"C'mon, honey-another man around the house can't be THAT bad."_

_Mrs. Turner only began to cry even louder. Mr. Turner raised an eyebrow, and the man hurriedly bent down, rustled through an old shopping bag, and drew out a small, pink hat._

_The man bustled over to the whimpering child, and placed the cap Irma had bought on Timmy's head, managing a smile._

_"We'll wing it. See? I can hardly tell the difference, right now."_

_Watching the child puzzedly pick at the small hat that seemed altogether much too large for him, Tamara Turner had to smile, even through the tears._

* * *

_~(*)~_

_Days. Weeks. Months. Years went by, one after another, as they always do. Tamara began to yearn for her lost freedom whenever she heard Timmy cry softly at night, or whenever the needy, pitiful little thing fell down, and had a scrape, and cried, desperate for attention. _

_There are those stupid enough to proclaim that all women are meant to be mothers, which, to Tamara, was the same thing as claiming that all men were meant to be trapped in a dead-end, pencil-pushing career like her husband's._

_Timmy was a cute little thing, and Tamara knew some consolation when young ladies would bend over Timmy's pram on the family's rare walks together, and coo over the sleeping little bundle that perpetually had a pacifier in his mouth. Tamara had heard that allowing children to suckle continuously on those rubber things could cause their teeth could come in oddly, but that was most likely an old wive's tale. Besides, when Timmy cried, it was an unnerving, distressing noise-one neither Turner knew quite how to deal with. Tamara often simply buried her face in a pillow late at night while her little boy screamed, and had to resist the horrifying urge to drive the pillow into the boy's face once or twice. _

_She had attempted to take away Timmy's pacifier once or twice, but as it was one of the only things that could make the boy stop whimpering, Tamara allowed him to keep it. _

_As Timmy began to grow older, Tamara found the best thing to do, as a Stay-at-Home Mom, was to often drop Timmy off at the homes of Mothers in her YMC, or Young Mom's Club. Timmy always had a playmate, then-with a little boy named Sanjay, or Chester, or AJ, or Elmer. There was also a little girl whom doted on the boy named Tootie, who was already scribbling out her and Timmy's wedding invites with crayons, but Timmy preferred to give her a wide berth, whenever possible._

_Dad was a little...unnerved by Timmy, sometimes. While once in awhile, the two enjoyed a nice game of catch, the man was a workaholic, or at one of his absurd inventions or projects. Whenever Timmy scooted to him with one of his pictures, Dad usually absentmindedly patted Timmy on the head before bustling outside to continue his search for the underground city of the mole people, but not before parking his son in front of the TV, as it was the only thing the man could think of TO do. _

_Well...that's not quite correct. Mr. Turner had noticed that Timmy would usually do whatever the creepily-smiling man on Clint's Hints told him to do, or copied whatever it was that annoying pipsqueak who called herself an explorer when she had to glance at a map when she was in her own flippin' house-was doing. In fear that Dora and Clint would soon realize this, and stir the youth into becoming perfect, obedient slaves to begin a hostile takeover, Mr. T had instead insisted that Timmy read a book, or, at the very least, watch manlier shows. Most of which involved badly drawn Japanese characters kicking the jelly out of one another in stupid, violent, non-imitable (Or, at least, Mr. T HOPED they were non-imitable) stunts. _

* * *

_Every child went through a 'clingy' phrase. But much to Mrs. Turner's agitation, this phase didn't seem to have any veritable end for her son. _

_The boy did his best to capture his parents' attention, first by being a perfect little angel...and then, when that had no effect, by being a...not so perfect little angel. But Tamara would simply lock the boy up in his crib or room whenever the child misbehaved, and left it at that. When the boy was being loud, and singing while beating a pan with a wooden spoon, Tamara, at her wit's end, would simply direct him outside for a moment's peace. _

_He clung to his Mother's skirts when she left the house, and Timmy's father, deciding to have another joke, warned Timmy that if he tried to stop Mommy from leaving, why, she would leave-and never, ever come back._

_Timmy stopped attempting to dissuade his mother from leaving after that, but he did have a habit of running to the windows whenever she left, face extremely white, blue eyes almost too big for his face._

_~(*)~_

_Whenever the boy clung to his father, Dad, who'd rarely been hugged or held by Pappy himself-simply shook the boy off. There were other activities to get to, such as throwing crabgrass onto his neighbor's lawn, or disappearing into his office to carefully hang up another collector's edition poster of The Silver Sharpener, which was somewhere in Canada. After a bit of this, Dad simply took to dropping Timmy off at his friends' houses, which was nice, because the house had a blessed moment of peace. _

_Visiting Timmy's friends' homes, however...was usually not nearly so nice, for while Timmy was well accepted at each home...there were...some aspects that gave Mr. and Mrs. Turner the almost impossible idea-the absurd, laughable idea-that they themselves were unwelcome, though their small child, who so often scurried out of the car for a hug from one of his playmates' guardians...was._

_Anne, AJ's mother, treated Timmy as if he were her own child, for whatever reason. She had a habit of shooting Mr. Turner cold glowers, which the man couldn't quite comprehend. Maybe it had something to do with the Yak Cologne his wife had bought him for Christmas. The stuff smelled revolting. Next year, the man would simply have to ask for Essence of Nog instead._

_Patrick, AJ's Father, a brilliant mathmatician...had a small cannon made to fire at Girl Scouts, Salesmen...and, for whatever silly mistake...the adult Turners, which was why the two parents so often smelled of burning hair by the time they stumbled back home. _

_Maria and her new husband, Fabio, were always decent to Timmy, though Fabio had always been something of a mindless drill seargent. Mr. Turner didn't like dropping off Timmy to play with Sanjay if he could help it, for Sanjay's step-father often forced Mr. T to come out of his car, and to give him fifty. That part was never fun for Mr. T, especially considering that Fabio had no head for numbers, and often forgot his place every two minutes._

_Felix and Esther, Chester's parents, were quite possibly poster children of the 'You Know You're A Redneck If...' generation, but Felix took Timmy fishing, and Esther was 'mighty dern hoSPITable to nay-bours.' Esther and Felix had been divorced some years ago, and simply lived under joint-custody jurisdiction, which suited them, and their small child Chester, very well. _

_But for some reason or another, Esther did not seem to heartily like the Turners very well. She was kind enough to Timmy, (Once you got over the fact that the McBadBats were perfectly fine with the idea of children playing near traffic) but gave the evil eye to a bemused Tamara more then once, and Mr. Turner's car more then often got attacked by rubber-eating squirrels whenever it showed up in the Trailer Park._

_As for Monica and Michael, Elmer's parents who served as Children's Librarians, they very often read books to Timmy and Elmer, something the Turners had never really done with Timmy. Certainly, Tamara would read a Soap Opera's Digest to Timmy once in awhile, and Mr. Turner would read out of the phonebook to Timmy every night until the boy was half-asleep with boredom, but nothing like what Monica and Michael would read to the boys: Furious George, The Tragic School Bus, Sarah, Plain, And Portly, and Where The Mild Things Are, were just a few. _

_Upon receiving a batch of Welcome-To-The-Neighborhood cookies from Mrs. Turner, Monica had slipped on a Hazmat suit, googles, and had carefully removed each and every cookie from the tray as tentaively as if it were an atomic bomb, and threw each pastry into a Nuclear Waste Disposal Bag before driving it to an isolated location, and burning it. As for Michael, he was a meek man, but charged the Turners rather high for Overdue Library Materials...much more then was customary._

* * *

_But regardless of how weirdly the neighbors felt about it, Timmy was well-tended for. He'd learned to play by himself oft the time, and that was that. Unfortunately, the child was not nearly as independent as Mrs. Turner would have liked, for the boy whimpered and moaned quite a bit, particularly at night, when unseen, but seeing eyes-would peer at him from the darkness of his almost certainly rattling closet, where something enormous and green was fighting tooth and nail to get out, get out, **get out.**_

_These were the dreams that had Timmy running away from his room at night in fits of terror, much to his parents' general irritation. Mr. Turner decided to have a spot of fun, and told the boy that there were no monsters peering at him from under the bed or inside the closet-just deranged insurance salesmen. _

_Maybe he shouldn't have told him that._

_Timmy was deathly afraid of realtors, and of door-to-door insurance salesmen until he was six years old._

_~(*)~_

_Tamara was trapped. She couldn't breathe. She no longer desired to have a pretty, pretty little girl, as Timmy had proved too much of a handful by himself! As he grew older, old ladies still thought him adorable, but no one complimented Mrs. Turner as much as they'd used to while Timmy was but a baby._

_She could now only work part-time, and had to grudgingly throw away money to feed three instead of two. Her freedom was limited, and she could but rarely leave the house. Timmy was so often underfoot, so craving her attention, that it was sickeningly exhausting. Every night as she flung herself in bed, the only thoughts she could bitterly muster before falling almost instantly asleep-was that this wasn't the life she'd dreampt of for herself, or for the man she loved._

_This wasn't what she wanted._

_And she thought the same thing whenever Timmy woke her up with moans and sobs of fear, along with his scampering footsteps moving quickly down the hall towards the two. _

_And, after dinner one day, the woman snapped. She couldn't take it anymore. _

_Just like that. _

_They hired twelve-year-old babysitter Vicky to tend for Timmy, and the two had merrily skipped off to a club, just as they did in the old times._

_She heard Timmy scream, and Timmy cry, and the idea DID make her feel guilty, but if Vicky was as kind and as sweet as her constantly trembling parents insisted, then Timmy would feel better soon. He was just being insecure. Whiny. He wanted attention. But Vicky would give it to him. _

_She had a life to live. She had missed out on far too much already, and there was so much catching up to do._

_She could hardly wait to live again. _

* * *

_With that mantra, it became easier for the woman to leave her child behind with Vicky, and ignored his absurd tales on a nightly basis._

_It was around when Timmy was….eight? Nine? Ten?-She didn't know….that the child became…somewhat withdrawn. At first, the woman was having far too much of a nice time with her husband to notice, but after watching a special with Dr. Phyllis on the telly…._

_She sometimes forgot she even had a child. The boy was content with his friends, and spent an irregular amount of time with his two goldfish. _

_(Well, he'd started out with two, but the fish had had a child just a little under a year ago…)_

_Timmy didn't SEEM unhappy. Quite the contrary. He smiled quite a lot, and, as unnerving as it was for an eleven year old to do so, dragged his goldfish bowl everywhere he went. That, or he carried his three notebooks, three balloons, a somewhat different looking pink hat, a green backpack with violet bands..._

_But he didn't step outside of his room, much. At least, not that SHE noticed. _

_He went to school, and sometimes came home with bruises, but boys will be boys. He probably just had the occasional scuffle with Chester, AJ, Sanjay, or Elmer, or something._

_He'd mentioned the name 'Francis' continuously when he was younger. Wasn't Francis a girl's name? Was Timmy having girl trouble? No wonder the boy looked positively bruised sometimes…._

_But the boy never spoke to his mother or father about it, anymore. He didn't speak much of anything to his parents. Even on the rare occasions that his mother and father took a benign interest in the boy, (After remembering they had one) Timmy seemed confused and unnerved by their attentions, and usually shuffled away for them._

_~(*)~_

_It was only when Tamara turned thirty-one did she begin to worry._

_One day, while out shopping on the many expensive frivolities she had in store for her fifteenth anniversary with her husband…..did she recall that she rarely bought Timmy things._

_Well, she MUST buy him things, and not think of it, much! That was it! Every mother-every good mother-knew their child's likes and dislikes, birthday, allergies, bloodtype….everything right down to the get-go._

_But, sitting in bed that same evening, Tamara had to scan her list about what she knew of her own son…._

_And found nothing, pardoning baseball, and comic books._

_That was it._

_That was all._

* * *

_The school nurse pended an investigation to see if Timmy Turner was neglected or abused, upon learning that no one packed the boy's lunch, or sent him to school with money. But Timmy ate well enough, just the same, to the confusion of many people._

_Something had always been a little off about Timmy, but Tamara was never quite sure what, exactly…..but that had been fine with her. After all, there was Santa in the Winter, and friends all year 'round. Certainly, she did a fine job in raising her son. _

_And Tamara continuously thought so._

_Until one day. _

_~(*)~_

* * *

_She hadn't known that the day was special. She never would have guessed._

_Ever. _

_She'd known she was dreaming, but the accusations being flown at her from every corner made her sick, absolutely sick-to her stomach, as Timmy glanced down at his lap just a few feet away, biting his lip. A pink haired woman was casting Tamara a filthy look, and the green-haired man was casting Timmy an anxious glance, his arm around the boy. _

_Hadn't Dad done that to Timmy?_

_She couldn't remember. But he must've, once. Every good father showed their child they cared._

_And she must have done the same for Timmy. Of course she'd did. She must have. So it was ridiculous, that these colorful freaks, with large eyes, crowns, and silver wings, sitting in their wooden thrones like Lords...all bearing down upon the Turners accusingly-_

_But her indignant thoughts had been abruptly washed blank while the enormous fairy in military personal began to speak._

_Birthday?_

_Her eyes swiveled around to glance at Timmy, and the bottom dropped of her stomach, as her young son kept his eyes locked on the ground, looking uncomfortable, but also never denying anything that the large Fairy said._

_Not a word. _

* * *

_She had celebrated Timmy's third birthday-that much, she could remember. Or, at the very least, she remembered giving him a bran muffin with a candle in it._

_But the others were blank. Why couldn't she remember the parties she must have thrown for Timmy? She HAD to have thrown him a party-invited his friends, bought a cake, and presents. _

_But she remembered none of that. Was that why these...creatures were glaring at her? Why they were throwing trash at her and her husband? Why the Judge had held up his hands for silence, a cut-throat glare on his eyes as-_

_...(A Conviction Spoken.)_

_Thwack!_

_The hammer flew down, its terrible note resounding into the air, into a distant echo._

_And, with that, and a wave of the wand, she and her husband were sent away in a shower of sparks, her mind blank, even as her body fell into perpetual numbness, and darkness began to swarm over her vision._

_They'd taken her son away from her._

_And now..._

_That was when the pain nearly destroyed the woman from the inside, and the agony she'd endured in the Delivery room so many years ago _

_turned into a gentle pinprick, a moderate bit of pain; compared to the stirring inferno inside of the bereaved and broken woman's heart. _

_It licked at her, even as she clutched her husband's hand in the darkness, unable to see, unable to feel the terror of what was soon to come. If Jorgan was correct, and she was to lose her memories of her own child-_

_A cry resonated, just before the peaceful, obliviating magic washed over her._

_The worse was, she knew that her distress and the pounding of her distraught heart...was something she well deserved. Only then did Tamara Turner realize this. _

_Only then did she realize that she deserved the anguish, and deserved to have her son taken away from her._

_That Timmy deserved to be taken away, by loving hands._

* * *

This was the dream that had woken Tamara Turner for the past few nights, though she didn't know why. After all, she'd never had a child, and never had wanted to. She lived with her love, lived as she pleased, and that was that.

All the same, hollowness bit at her continually, and a secret shame burned at her insides. Why, she did not know. But it was the reason why she stood here, at the dock, watching her letter in the bottle drift away from her, as her husband hurried to catch up from behind her, somewhere across the pier.

A seagull shrieked as the woman stared at the dark, churning waters, below the damp wood on which she stood on that smelled of salt. Quietly, Tamara watched the letter she'd labored on since last night float away, twisting and twirling in its corked bottle as it spun every which way the cobalt waves chose to throw it.

At last, Mr. Turner caught up with her, chest heaving. He doubled over for a moment, still gasping, still attempting to catch his breath. He swayed slightly, groaned, and held a hand to his throbbing head before turning his eyes to his wife. Mr. Turner hated the sea.

"Uh...honey? You mind...explainin' what all that was about?"

His eyes alighted on the bottle, as the waves continued to gently push it, farther and farther away from the pier. Mr. Turner raised an eyebrow.

"What's that?"

Tamara kept her eyes fixated upon the bottle, as if she wanted to keep watch over the little thing until it disappeared into the churning foam, somewhere in the distance. The wind gently played at the strands across her face, and she moved them aside, her eyes narrowed, expression quiet. For a moment, Mr. T thought she might not answer, but Tamara finally said:

"A letter."

Mr. T cast her a look that said all too well that he was casting asperiations upon his wife's sanity.

"Uh...honey? I know that the price of stamps these days is outrageous, but, uh...why'd you chuck your letter into an OCEAN? Whose letter is it?"

Tamara could taste the salt in the air, could hear the seagulls shriek overhead. She took her husband's hand, and, for a moment, didn't say anything. Then-

"I don't know whose letter it is."

Mr. T cast his wife an alarmed look.

"Ooookay...so, what's the letter about?"

Much to his-and her-confusion, Tamara's eyes burned with tears. The woman abashedly rubbed at her eyes, attempting to smile.

"It's...me asking for the impossible," she said at last, turning her eyes to the enormous, scarlet star sinking in the west, in a sea of oranges, reds, golds, and pinks.

She thought for a moment, and, when she had to speak again, she unsuccessfully fought back the tremor in her voice.

"And...it's a promise. One I intend to keep."

She closed her eyes, hearing the waves slurp and smack against the wooden beams of the peer below, the tears still falling before she cast her concerned husband a small smile.

"No matter what."


End file.
